Ludi Incipiant-Let the Games Begin
by ApricityinSnow12
Summary: Despite being from District 4, Perseus Jackson has never trained for the Games. So when his name is called out in a booming clear voice, his chances of survival are pretty slim. Then he makes an ally of a twelve year old girl, dooming himself even more. Because no, he doesn't plan on killing her in her sleep. And when he falls in love with his biggest threat-Fate is just so cruel.
1. My Home

**Author's Note: Hello! Um... I'm very sorry that I haven't updated any of my stories for a while... I had another week of tests (Please get used to it...I have five weeks of tests in one year, and five weeks of test preparation days, so about ten weeks of each year is wasted-sorry, _honorably used-_ as nonFanfiction days.) That, and my computer broke down. It's still broken, but...it's managing. For today.**

 **Anyways, this is my new multi-chapter story. The idea isn't very original; I've read a bunch of Percy-Jackson-in-the-Hunger-Games Fanfictions, but I couldn't help it. I just love these two books. I promise I'll make it as original as I can.**

 **And uh...I think that's it. Yeah.**

 **Disclaimer: The setting belongs to Suzanne Collins, and the characters mostly belong to her and Rick Riordan. Please enjoy!**

* * *

District four stains in orange as the sun slowly lowers itself into the ocean. Another day on the calendar is ticked off. It's unfair.

His father playfully shoves him in, and Percy surfaces, grinning. The water doesn't bother him; it's his home. The drops of water reflect the sun, glittering as they fly back down. He ducks under, propelling forward with his feet, and he reaches the sandy bottom before he pushes hard, splashing his father as he flips near the boat. His father's eyes roll behind the dark sunglasses, but Percy knows he finds this fun. He doesn't bother climbing aboard, and chooses to swim to shore instead.

As usual, his father hands him a fourth of the catch. _For your mother_ , he says. Percy grins in thanks. When they push through the wooden doors of his house, his mother greets them with her sweet smile, wiping her hands on her apron. When Percy shows her the net full of fish, her smile becomes even more radiant.

"Oh, Poseidon, you shouldn't have."

His father gives a deep laugh, scratching the back of his neck; a habit inherited by his son. Percy trudges past them and into the kitchen, cleaning the fish as he watches his parents talk from the counter. He finds it funny how his parents still seem love each other, even when his father has a wife. A legally wedded one, that is. One that hates Percy and his mother, but he can't blame her. He bets he would hate them too, if he were in her position. Percy shudders; the image of himself as a wife to his father is...disturbing, to say the least.

"Can't you stay for dinner? It's the least I can do."

"You know Amphitrite and Triton wait for me at home."

His mother rubs her hands together, and Percy knows that she is looking for an idea. He pokes her in the back and thrusts a well decorated box to his father.

"It's from us, as a thanks. For letting me work with you, paying me well, and all that."

Poseidon raises his eyebrows, chuckling at his son's gleeful look. Gingerly, he opens it, and roars in laughter.

"Thank you, Sally. My family will enjoy this very much. It's their favorite treat, you know."

Percy sneakily grabs one blue colored cookie, munching on it as a sigh escapes his lips.

"Percy! It's for your father! Put that down right now!"

His mother tries to look scolding, but a smile tugs on her lips.

"Oh you-"

She ruffles his hair before kissing his forehead, making him whine, but he quickly leaves after that, letting his parents enjoy whatever time they had alone. It was more fun talking to his cousin anyways.

.

When he enters his room on the second floor, he finds his cousin sprawled on his bed, one eye opening blearily to stare at the intruder of his beauty sleep.

"Urgh."

Percy rolls his eyes, pushing Nico off his bed.

"Get off my bed, you sleepy head. We've got work to do."

At that, Nico shoots up from his crumpled form on the floor, bumping heads with Percy.

"If this is what work is like...man, I _love_ work."

"Just like you love me?"

Nico rolls his eyes, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"In your dreams, loser."

They race down the sandy path of their small town and onto the hard concretes of the district center. It's nearing nightfall, but the town stays bustling, unlike their quiet beachside home.

"Look where you're going!"

They grin, high fiving each other as they rush into their favorite place; the market. They split up and join again five minutes later, Percy with a coconut in his hand and Nico with a fistfull of jangling coins. Percy's just about to say _Nice_ , but a strong pair of hands grab the scuffs of their necks, making Nico squirm.

"Jackson...You really shouldn't be teaching Di Angelo these things, you know. If your fathers find out, he'd have your necks."

Percy turns around grinning before doing a special handshake with the marketplace man, Hermes.

"I only learned from the pro himself."

Hermes dips his head in a mocking bow, but he thrusts out his hand.

"You guys are getting better-just not quite the best. Gotta be more sneaky next time. Give me the coins, Nico. Come on, I've got customers to take care of."

Once he takes the money from his cousin, Hermes turns to leave, giving a subtle wink to a confused Percy.

"Consider it a good-luck gift."

Nico stares greedily at the fruit, and Percy lifts it up, out of the eleven year old's reach. He pouts, but relents when Percy promises to share.

The dinners before the Reapings are always quite a feast.

.

Percy lies on his bed, listening to Nico's silent breathing. He's never been able to sleep the night before the Reapings. It's his third year, and the hours of this night kill him with nerves. His name in in the bowl a meager three times. The possibility of him getting picked is one in thousands. Being one of the richest district, the older boys put their name in dozens of times, wishing for a glory they are so sure of achieving. They train, they fight, and they live for this purpose. His step-brother, Triton, is one of the strongest in Career training. Percy contemplates his chances of going into the games before erasing it from his mind. _Bad thoughts, Perseus, Bad thoughts._

The only thing that calms him down is the fact that Nico will not be picked. Reapings start from twelve, and-thank _goodness_ -Nico's still too young. He watches his cousin sleep (not in a creepy way, of course; he's not _that_ weird), and fiddles with his hand, wishing he could rest that well. Making sure to keep quiet, he sneaks past the young boy and down the stairs, grabbing a glass cup from the boards on his way to the kitchen.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he rounds into his mother, and her gentle smile has _almost_ him running into her embrace. He catches himself at last moment, of course. That's the important thing.

"Are you scared?"

Percy lets out a dry chuckle.

"I shouldn't be. The chances of me being picked are tiny, and...I...I'm fourteen. Fourteen years old guys should be proud to go into the Games. 'nd maybe even bring our district the glory of victory. Why am I so…urgh, _weak_?"

His mother laughs, patting his head. It feels good, actually. Not that he'd ever admit that.

"When I was your age, I used to be so scared I refused to leave my house on Reaping Day."

Percy makes a face, and his mother laughs.

"I was always so scared, compared to my friends. I hated this. I didn't want to die. I cried and screamed and hung onto the door until the Peacekeepers had to come pry me off." She chuckles, "I never got called though. Thinking back, it's so embarrassing. My chances of being picked were even lower than yours, Percy. Even now, when my mother's friends see me, they call me Crybaby Sally. They mean it in an endearing way, of course, but I can't help being embarrassed each time."

Sally glances at the watch, and ushers him back into his room. She gives him a final peck on the forehead and ruffles his hair.

"I love you."

Percy can't help the grin that appears on his face.

"Love you too, Mom."

The next thing he sees is the rising sun. Somehow, it doesn't seem as bright as usual.


	2. The Odds are Not in my Favor Tonight

**Author's Note: Riiiight... So. I've kinda come to a realization that crossover Fanfictions do not come out in either forums, and _just_ the crossover forums... I did _not_ know that when I started writing this. And now I can only pray that people will stumble over this fanfic. Since...well, it'd be a real bummer if I wrote this... _and no one read it._ I mean, in 9 hours, only 7 people read it. Talk about _sad_.**

 **Anywho, I know chapter one wasn't all that exciting, but chapter two brings you-finally-into the real story. And the action. And the thrill that you all must have loved in the books. I know I did. Please enjoy, and thanks to anyone who reads this!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or the Percy Jackson series.**

* * *

For the first time since his cousin moved in, Percy wakes up earlier than Nico. Sunlight streaks in onto the hard wooden floors, and he lets himself relax at the warmth on his feet. His house is filled with the smell of pancakes, and even through the gloom, Percy is excited. Blue pancakes do make a better day, after all.

His mother's smile is fake and forced, and by the way she clutches the plate of breakfast, he knows she's just as nervous as him. He goes up, hugs her, and sets the table.

Breakfast is quiet, unfilled with their usual morning chatter. Only Nico stays oblivious, his pale cheeks pink with satisfaction of the taste that blooms in his mouth. Percy's eyes catch the blue ones of his mother, and they both allow a chuckle to escape. But that's it. The nerves return.

Sally stands behind his son as she pats his shoulder clad in suits, and Percy makes a face through the mirror. He hates wearing suits, and he swears that ties were invented for murder. He mentions to his mother that this kills him.

"At least I'm not making you comb that mess."

"Yeah, but that's because you _can't._ And it's not a mess. It's beautiful."

He jokingly sways his head to the side putting on his best 'sexy face', and Nico bursts into laughter from behind the door. Percy raises his eyebrows and waves him outside. He's just about to follow when his mother stops him.

"Percy…"

"Yeah?"

She smiles at him, nodding.

"You look just like your father."

Percy furrows his eyebrows, unsure of how to take the comment, and Sally just chuckles.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Good luck, Percy."

He nods, and even though he knows that the results are unpredictable, he kind of wishes she said _you'll be fine_. Because _good luck_ brings the stinging truth, and he runs out before he does anything stupid.

.

Out on the streets, he joins his friends and gets in line for the blood check. He's identified as Perseus Jackson (no duh), and he leaves for his section with a pinching pain in his arm.

The Reaping Ceremony stars 30 minutes later, and as usual, they show a film of the history of the Games. It's nothing new to Percy, for they show this every year, and he rolls his eyes when he sees Aurora mouth every word. She looks even more ridiculous this year, "trying to fit in" by coloring her hair green and blue, and growing eyelashes until they reach her forehead. _Capitol people,_ Percy thinks. He will never understand their fashion sense.

On her-again-ridiculously tall high heels, she clicks across the stage and to the bowl on the stand. Percy wrings his hands, and across the audience, he sees his mother do the same. His name is in there three times. Somewhere in the crowd, Triton stands, tall and proud. Percy finds it hard to believe that their blood is connected. Triton must've sucked every bad trait his father ever represented. On stage, Aurora rubs her gloves together in an excited way. It makes Percy disgusted. _Leave it to the stupid to find joy in murder._

"Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

As usual, it is ladies first. A girl of sixteen, Helen Fluer is called, and when she reaches Aurora, she gives a curtsey and smiles charmingly at the crowd. Of course, she is a Career with a life full of training. Somewhere among the adults, a woman gives a squeal of delight, and he wonders how this parent is happy. _Your daughter might be slaughtered in a few days, Lady! Get your head straight!_

Meanwhile, Aurora's white gloves pinch a name.

"And for the gentleman, we have...Perseus Jackson!"

It's weird. He watches his name roll off her tongue, and her green colored lips twist up in a smile. His name... His name! He had prayed it not to be him for days without rest, uncaring to even hide his terror, and amidst the hundreds of names in the bowl-amidst all of the people who want to be called, it's him. It's him that's chosen, it's him that's called, and it's him that's going to die. Because-let's face it-he's a fisherman. He has no chance of survival.

His feet move on its own, coming closer to the stage, and he only snaps out of it when he hears his mother's sobs.

"I volunteer!"

Percy's head looks back with a speed of an animal, and Aurora smiles brightly in front of him.

"Aww, aren't you a real sweetheart. What's your name, dear?"

"Nico. Nico Di Angelo."

Aurora thinks this is absolutely delicious.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but you're too young to be in the Games. I can already see you'll be one of those tough guys in the future though. I can't wait to see you in the future Games!"

Nico stomps his foot.

"No! I'm going in this Games, in place for my _cousin!_ "

Aurora giggles.

"Well, Perseus, aren't you a lucky man."

"Let me in the _stupid Games!_ "

Percy clenches his fist, and he climbs onto stage.

" _Enough,_ Nico. Go back to your place."

Nico's black eyes are filled with tears but he holds them in, looking strong for his cousin. The muscle on his jaw jumps a little, and he squares his shoulder to go to Sally. Percy forces his lips into a smile, and he waves at his district as they cheer them on. Over to the left, he sees Triton point to him and sneer, and he knows that that is the reason for no volunteers. His brother would love to see him die.

.

His father visits him first, much to his surprise, and he crouches in front of him, grabbing his shoulders.

"Remember what I taught you, Perseus. Unpredictability is a useful tool."

Percy runs a hand through his hair, and he nods, somewhat trying for a smile.

"You'll do great, son."

He turns around, glares at a Peacekeeper, and whispers in his ear,

"You were always my favorite son."

It's enough to leave Percy feeling warmer than before, and Poseidon presses something to his hand.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"This is a pen."

Poseidon chuckles lightly.

"I know. Make it your token from home, will you? It's good luck."

"This is a _pen_."

His father pats his head, tells him to win, and turns around and leaves. Percy doesn't want his last words to Poseidon be _this is a pen_ , but by the time he opens his mouth, his father is long gone.

Percy lets the pen slip into his pocket.

.

His mother and Nico comes in next, and it takes all of Percy's will to not crumble in tears. _Be strong...for them._

"Oh, Percy. I am so...I just... I-I never thought..."

"Mom."

"Percy, I love you. Remember that, okay?"

"Okay."

"You _have_ to win, Percy."

Percy gives his cousin a hug.

"I..."

"Promise me?"

Percy hesitates, and Nico sees that. He grabs Percy's arm and pulls it.

"Promise me. Show me that I haven't looked up to the wrong person. Tell me I've been right about everything I ever thought you were. I...you're cool. You're loyal. You're funny, but serious at times, too. You're a fighter. You're a hero. You're strong."

Percy swallows, and his eyelashes cast a shadow on his cheeks.

"I'm not strong."

"Yes, you are."

It's his mother that supplies to their conversation, and she takes him in an embrace. It reminds him of when he was just a little kid, and he wishes he still were.

"Just-please, promise us you'll win?"

There's a moment of silence, and Percy relents.

"I'll try."

.

Percy's mentor is the oh-famous-Finnick Odair. He's handsome, he's charming, and if Percy were a girl, he's pretty sure he would've fell in love. Helen did, as it is. Her light brown eyelashes fluttering this way and that, and her dull green eyes made large and round, she sashayed over to Finnick and curtseyed. Percy watched in pure disgust.

"Mr. Odair. I've heard so many _dashing_ things about you. And you're even more charming in person."

Finnick sends his signature grin, and a sigh of amazement falls from her lips. A shiver passes through Percy.

"Stop flirting with the tributes, Finnick. You're grossing us out."

Percy blinks, turning around to meet a lady, and he blinks again at her unexpected appearance. He's seen her on TV and from a distance, but so close by, she's a sight to behold.

"Clarisse La Rue. I reckon you're Perseus whatever?"

"Jackson."

Her brown hair is pulled in a ponytail and it's evident she has no cares for looks. Her arm has got to be three times as thick as his, bulging with muscle as she leans closer to Percy.

"What'cha say, Punk?"

"...I said Jackson. As in, my name is Perseus Jackson, not Perseus whatever."

Clarisse gives a barking laugh, slapping his back really hard.

"You've got guts, kid. Speaking up to me like that."

She lowers her voice to a whisper, crouching.

"Better watch your back."

She roughly grabs Helen who waves at Finnick as though in a trance, and they enter the girls' rooms. Percy's still in somewhat of a shock; Clarisse is someone he had never wanted to meet. Finnick rolls his eyes at them and turns his attention to Percy.

"Sorry for the delay. I'm Finnick Odair. Quite a bit obviously, I'll be your mentor for this Games."

"That is quite obvious."

Finnick pulls his lips to a smile and hums.

"Quite so, indeed."

Percy doesn't want to talk to his so called 'mentor'. He doesn't want anything to do with him, actually, but it's him or Clarisse, and...well...

"What's up with her?"

Finnick's eyebrows raise up in question.

"Clarisse?"

Percy decides to let him answer that on his own.

"She was a Career tribute. Practically lived for the Games. She volunteered in place for her brother and won in a mere three days. It was evident that she'd win-from the very beginning, too. She acts vicious and scary and like a bully but...well, you work with her for 8 years, and you start to see her good side."

"And you?"

Finnick smiles.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

Percy notices how he seems different from what he's heard of, and thinks to not dislike him just yet. Though he's still unsure; he was normal near Helen. He wonders if it's just because he's a guy, for he sure hopes that he doesn't flirt with _him_. The moment Finnick purrs his words to him, Percy swears he'll jump off the train. He supposes it's a good thing he hasn't, yet. It'd be a shame if he died before the Games.

And, after all, once the Games actually began, Finnick will be his only hope.

His light green eyes seem to bore through Percy's, and he nods to himself, as though agreeing. Without another word, Finnick takes Percy to his room, which is well decorated and overall blue.

"Dinner's in a few hours. Come down by then, okay? For now, settle down, and welcome to the tour of your life."

The silent rattles of the train invites Percy to bed, and the mattress is so soft he sinks right in. He hears Finnick crunch on a sugar cube below, and he notes to himself to ask for one later. He tries to ignore the under-note of his mentor's last comment, for it sounded very close to... _welcome to the very last tour of your life._


	3. Ludi Incipiant

**Author's Note: Ah. There we go. I'm still getting used to my new computer, and it just took me six tries to get the ":" typed. Okay...so...ah...ths is chapter three (duh). There's still not much excitement, and I'm going to warn you that the Games isn't going to start fo a while. I mean...there's still the Parade, the training, the assessment thingy, the interview...so many things to go through. I'll make it as interesting as I can; please bare with me. And I promise that updates will be done quick so that nobody gets bored.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading, and please enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

* * *

The smell of dinner invites him downstairs, and he's greeted by gold laced plates. Finnick Odair is already seated down, talking in whispers to Aurora. They're a little too close for comfort (in his opinion), and Percy watches in disbelief as Aurora's blue cheeks blush a rosy pink. Without asking for permission, Percy sits down, the lacy tablecloth dangling above his legs, and waits for his mentor and escort to notice him. They do, several moments later.

"Nice to see you awake, Percy. I see you've taken a liking to the new clothes."

Finnick looks and sounds completely undisturbed unlike his companion, who fights hard to keep her blush down. He figures Finnick does this often; reputation is reputation, and the young victor is famous for his pleasures. He decides not to mention that the clothes are too fancy, and instead focuses on playing nice and polite.

"Is...uh, dinner ready yet?"

It's funny how Finnick doesn't cast Aurora another glance. The escort looks ridiculous, trying to impress somebody who clearly couldn't care less.

Dinner is lavish, and Percy marvels at the ways of the Capitol. District four is a somewhat wealthy place, and its citizens have never really been _needy,_ but this course menu is one that even the mayor of their home do not have on his table. Steak, stew, mashed potatoes, and chocolate cake; it's all the luxury he's never experienced. There's even wine poured for them, and he wonders if this is legal. But since _hey, he's going to die in a few weeks anyways,_ he gingerly holds the glass and drinks. The liquor burns as it travels down his throat, and Helen giggles at the face he makes. The tension is no longer evident in the room, and Percy awes at the power of food.

After their meal is over, Aurora leads them to another room, decorated with a screen and a film player. Percy chooses to sit by the side, munching on cookies from the coffee table. They're okay, but not as good as his mother's. The recap of the Reapings starts from District one, where a lean looking couple volunteer for two younger Careers. Crystal, 17, and Sirius, 18, hold hands as they walk out of the stage. Percy immediately classifies them as threats, but the next two tributes make him rethink his decision. The girl, Annabeth Chase, strikes out to Percy. She's only 16, but judging from the fact that no one volunteers, it's clear that she's just as scary as she looks. But that's not what irks him. It's her eyes, those stormy grey eyes, that turns his lips to a frown. Not because they're pretty, or intimidating, or anything like that. It's that _he knows those eyes_. Somewhere, some time ago, he'd encountered those eyes. And now, those same two eyes watch him through the screen, and it sends a shiver up his spine.

On the scary scale, her District partner levels with her. With those cold blue eyes and that scar on his face, it's evident that Luke Castellan is a force to be recognized. He volunteers in place for a 16 year old boy, and if the cheers of the crowd is any indication, the 18 year old is probably the best in the district. The next district reaps a smart looking pair, but neither of them look that physically threatening. Then it's the recap of the District 4 Reaping, and Percy watches in misery as their names are called. Helen stands proud and Percy looks meek in comparison. He doesn't make a complete fool out of himself, but the fright is evident in the way he walks. He groans as he watches, for _Nico_ manages to look more brave than him. Aurora gives him a comforting pat, but he hardly feels it, wallowing in self-pity. It'd be a surprise if he scraped up some sponsors. There's little his mentors can do without the money.

The rest of the reapings are fairly insignificant, though District 7 manages to pick what is probably the scariest siblings in their district. With their arrogant sneers and their twitching fingers, Jade and Pompey look like they'd like to _eat_ their escort. As there is in every single year, a twelve year old is reaped in District 8. Watching Zoe Nightshade walk up the stage nearly breaks his heart in two, for Percy knows that despite her strong willed look, the Hunger Games is not something a twelve year old should experience. Besides him, his escort gives small _aww_ , but he knows she wants nothing but entertainment. _And what better than a brutal death of a child?_ Something hardens in his mind, and he decides that he wants her for an ally. _Even if it means his death._ From District 11 comes fourteen year old Medea, who reminds Percy of a cat about to pounce, and eighteen year old Antaeus, who is probably big enough to carry five Percys. Percy's mouth twitches into an un-amused smile. He wonders if there'd be a chance for Antaeus to test that out, and maybe break his neck while he's at it.

Percy stays in the room for a while, replaying the recaps over and over. Trying to remember his opponent, and the way they hold themselves. But the more he sees, the more glum he turns. About ten of the tributes look stronger than Percy; _of course they do. What chance does he have? He is a fisherman's son, for goodness sake._ Unscaling fish would get him nowhere in the Games. He was doomed from the start, and he knows that.

Finnick comes in, and offers him a sugar cube. The girls had all long gone to sleep. Percy's surprised that his mentor is awake, but doesn't question it, instead focusing on the sweetness inside his mouth. It tastes nice, calming him somewhat, and he glances questioningly at Finnick.

"I figured you needed some encouragement."

"And you figured sugar cubes would help."

"It does, doesn't it?"

Percy shrugs, knowing he's right. He's always had a thing for sweets, and knowing he might die makes him crave them even more. Finnick stays for a little bit longer, and only leaves when he sees Percy head to his room. Something about that makes him like his mentor. Maybe it's the fact that he seems to _care_ , or maybe it's just those sugar cubes he has, but Percy decides that Finnick's alright.

.

District four isn't too far from the Capitol, and a little after breakfast, the city is in view. There's a crowd formed by the path they follow, trying to get a sight of the new tributes on the train. Helen's already at the window, giving a wave here and there, and Percy decides that he might as well join. The crowd is amazingly colorful, what with the ridiculous fashion they have, but Percy sits right by the window and does his job. He bites his lips for a moment, but lets his expression ease into a smirk. He's not sure what angle to play at, so he forms a look that's too innocent to be evil, too modest to be cocky, and too uncertain to be perfect. It must be okay though, because the crowd goes wild, trying to capture one last sight of him before the train passes by.

"The Capitol loves you already."

It's his fellow tribute that talks, and for a second Percy senses a tinge of jealousy on her voice, but her smile seems natural and real enough.

"I'm pretty sure they were cheering for you."

...Okay, so he's _not_ sure about that, but the train went too fast, and he couldn't really tell, so it's not exactly a _lie._ Helen gives a nervous giggle.

"You think?"

For some hole reason, Percy wriggles his eyebrows, making her laugh a little bit more.

"I'm _positive._ "

And then, he's wondering about why he's doing this. Why he's making friends with his soon-to-be-enemy, for surely they wouldn't be allies.

"Thanks, I guess." She pauses for a moment, "Are you thinking of joining the Careers?"

That sombers his mood, for he doesn't want to think about the Games. He's fine with running away from the truth, because for _once_ , reality could truly kill him. _And if he's going to die anyways...well, ignorance_ is _bliss. Why not let him run away? The result won't change at all._

"I...Well, I kinda need an invite for that to happen, because I'm not a Career. You probably know, but I've never had training."

"I could get you one, you know. An invite to the Careers. You'll survive longer with us."

Percy's a little bit confused with that, because he doesn't remember getting so friendly with her. It could be a trick, but her eyes search his face innocently, and he gives a small sigh beneath his breath. He wonders how to break it up to her that maybe he doesn't _want_ to join, but the train stops right there, freeing him from his current predicament.

There's a swooshing sound as the train doors open, and Percy squints as bright lights fill his view. Sunlight bounces off the shiny surfaces of the buildings, and it's the kind of blindingness that even the ocean surface can't bring.

In the middle of the Capitol with the towering buildings, amid all of the strange faces filled with glee, Percy suddenly feels so small. And he comes to a realization that this is all a sick game, and he's nothing but a small tool-a dispensable piece-and something cold grabs at his heart.

 _You like this show? You like this Game?_

He looks around the city and grins.

 _Ludi Incipiant! Let the Games begin._

* * *

 **Additional Author's Note: There it is! I know it's kinda short, but this chapter's important, what with the introduction to the other characters...and Annabeth, of course. Now...I have a bit of a question. I'm debating on how the arena should be... So far, I'm thinking of the normal forest scene/ a more snowy, blizzardly scene/ desert-ish, dry scene/ a poisony scene (sort of like the 50th Games)/ an everchanging scene (kinda like the labyrinth, were everything reforms and changes once in a while)...**

 **Please let me know which one you think should be the arena for this Games! Or if you have an idea you can share with me, that would be very helpful. Thank you!**


	4. Opening Ceremony

**Author's Note: Hello :) Well, I believe this story needs updating...so here it is! Chapter four, where we'll be taking a look at the opening ceremony... I know that so far, this story isn't that exciting and all, and I'm sorry to say it might take a few more chapters till we get into the Games. I hope yo can bare with me... I'll do my best, I promise.**

 **Thanks to ayone who fav/follow/reviewed this story. It's because of you guys that I continue to do what I like most-writing.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson stories. Nor do I own the Hunger Games series. I. Own. Nothing. (sadly)**

* * *

Though it pains him to admit it, the view in the Capitol is amazing. From the top floors of the building they stay in, Percy sits in his chair, gazing out the one-way window. It helps distract him from his stylist assistants, who he can't help but feel bitter about. They are so...hyper and happy and _scary_.

"Alright, Perseus." The one with neon-green hair-Julietta, he thinks-places a cold finger on his shoulder, and he resists the urge to shiver. She tilts his face about, humming in approval as the other two circle around him. "Just a little more touch, and I think you're all set for Silena."

 _Silena_. That's another name that sounds vaguely familiar, along with Luke, Zoe...Annabeth. It's strange, he thinks, gritting his teeth as the prep team "re-shapes" his eyebrows and rids him of his facial hair. No memories surface at their names. They just feel weirdly...normal, as if he's met them before, interacted with them maybe, and at some point had their names run through his mind. He winces, reaching up to touch his chin, though his hand is quickly swatted aside.

 _Three hours_ , he's spent in this Remake Center, having his "hair problems" and sunburns taken care of. He sighs in his head, annoyed. He's a guy. He's _supposed_ to have hair. The assistants have pretty much scraped off three layers of his skin, lotioned down his body, circled around him at least fifteen times, and yet they shake their head solemnly every time he asks if they're finished.

"Don't!" The pinks one shouts in alarm, annoyed. "Just wait a little bit more, sweetheart. We're almost done; we promise."

Percy's patience has all but run out by the time they call in his stylist.

Julietta smiles with her grotesque green lips, crouches, and says, "Don't worry, dear. You look dashing, really. Especially now that we've gotten all that-" she gestures widely with her hands, "- _filth_ off your skin. Silena will love you."

A little after the prep team has run off, the thick doors open again, revealing the woman who must be Silena. He resists the urge to cover his body.

Silena is... put simply, _beautiful_. Her long black hair falls to her hips, and her big brown eyes stare out at him beneath her thick, pink-hinted eyelashes. Her dress, also pink and red, flows behind her in a delicate curtain as she walks closer and motions him to wear his robe. Percy releases a breath, thankful for her very short inspection.

"Hello, Perseus. I'm Silena, your stylist."

Before he could reply to her introduction, she continues with her soft, flowing voice.

"You look better than they described." She purses her lips, her hand on her chin. "Well...certainly younger than what Julietta seemed to indicate." She gives a small giggle, leading him to another room, this one more cozy than the metallic, hospital-like room they were in before. Two plush couches face a glass coffee table that carries well decorated plates filled with Capitol luxurious-food. Silena seats herself in the chair opposite to his, and he watches as she stirs her chocolate drink. He does the same, cautious not to spill, for his hands are shaking. He isn't quite sure why. Anger, maybe. Frustration. Whatever it is, it bubbles in his stomach as he takes this all in. The food. The drinks. The expensive furniture. His district is rich, surely more than most of the others in Panem. His father pretty much lives in a mansion, having been involved with the right jobs at the right times. But even he never has his tables so filled with food. He has to fish with Percy each day before work, to make sure his house and his family-his _other_ family-is well off. What would it be like, living in the Capitol, having luxuries in your grasp at all times? He takes another sip of his drink, trying to calm himself down. He can feel Silena's eyes on him from across the table and manages a small smile for his stylist. Silena's not too bad, considering all things. She looks human, and acts so too. Her voice, though slightly weighed by the Capitol accent, shows her efforts to make it natural.

"So," Silena starts, her eyes alight with excitement at her job, "You know that for the Opening Ceremonies, your costume should reflect your districts' flavors."

Percy nods, remembering all the Games he has seen before. Usually, his district wore something decent; a blue rippling dress to illustrate the ocean, a fisherman's clothing, or-as there was once-a fishing net. They were mostly nice, tolerable at worst, and scraped up some sponsors from the parade only.

"Michelle and I, we decided to focus more on the fish side, rather than-say, like the sea or the fisher _men_."

Percy blinks, his brows creasing.

"We're going to be _fish?_ "

Silena gave a giggle before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Kind of. Don't worry, dear," she says, standing up. "Just be yourself, and you'll be absolutely stunning."

Percy breathes through his nose before following her. _Fish,_ he thinks miserably, _well that's certainly worse than I prepared for._

 _._

A few hours later, Percy stands in front of the mirror, taking in the sight of someone that isn't quite Percy Jackson. On the bright side, he's not fish. On the dark side…

"I'm a _mermaid._ "

The makeup is nothing too flashy, though he can see the difference from his normal self. He looks older, stronger; powerful, sort of like a sea god should look. Some parts of his skin-and his hair, too-sparkles, giving the impression of him having just come back from a swim. His hair is hardly touched, still messy and windswept, but has a slight blue-green hue to his normal jet black color, reminding him of the depths of the sea. On the top of his head lays a silver crown, and he holds a trident of the same color in his hand (though he's not quite sure if that's allowed in the ceremony rules).

So really, the only downside is that he's a mermaid.

His costume is only a fin, so therefore his upper body is bare. On his chest lays a leather necklace strung with five clay beads, and he calms a little at the strangely familiar weight. His...fin, too, isn't that bad. It's not cheap looking, but isn't grotesquely _fish_ either. Though he completely lacks talent in the fashion area, he can tell that it's made from several layers of soft clothing, giving it the perfect shade. As he moves, the fabric ripples, giving the illusion of the fins moving in sync. It looks nice, really. Just...he never figured he was the mermaid type.

"Mer _man_ ," Silena corrects him, though a giggle shakes her shoulders. "You're a merman; the king of them all. The god of the sea."

She leans in, her lips by his ear, and whispers, " _Poseidon_."

The hair on his neck (the ones that weren't plucked off) stands, and he turns around, his eyes large. If she meant that name in the way he thinks she did-as in, not his father's name-she's much more dangerous than Percy had deemed her to be. Stories from the old ages are forbidden in Panem. There are whispers of the sea god in District Four, yes, but nobody dared to say it out loud. It was unspeakable. A sin to be mentioned.

Silena winks with her dazzling brown eyes, and presses a finger to her lips.

"The costume goes well with your eyes. Beautiful sea green. I think they're the rarest eye color in Panem."

All of a sudden, Percy's overwhelmed by this lady. Not only is she stunningly (and more importantly humanly) beautiful, she has the guts to fight against rules. And Percy hates rules.

"Percy," He says, turning to look at Silena, "Please, call me Percy. Not Perseus."

Silena gives him a smile, fixing the tip of his hair with her fingers.

"Thank you, Percy. That means a lot to me."

Perhaps she knows that he's accepting her by telling him his preferred name. A certain fire dances in her eyes, and she gives him an encouraging pat on his shoulder.

"You're the son of the sea. Go woo the crowd."

.

After joining Michelle and Helen, who is dressed similarly as the queen of the oceans, they're taken to the bottom of the Remake Center. With the Opening Ceremony about to start, the tributes are starting to board their respective chariots, and Percy takes a breath in awe. The chariot itself is decorated with seashells, and in front of their chariot stand two proud horses, decorated slightly to look like pegasi. One of them snorts and stares at Percy accusingly, and he has the strangest feeling that he's being asked for donuts.

"They're black." He says, almost giddy with excitement, and Helen gives him a dry look before climbing on the chariot. "Usually District 12 gets the black ones," he explains, taking his place next to his fellow tribute. "but it seems like they got grey ones this year." He reaches out, petting its mane. "The black ones are always the prettiest."

Shame that Helen doesn't seem to understand. Horses truly are a beauty.

The opening music starts, and the heavy doors open to the crowd-lined streets. He's suddenly very thankful that he doesn't have stage fright. The chariot from District one slowly rolls forward, pulled by white stallions and flashing with gems. The crowd goes wild, trying to catch sight of the beautiful jewelry-clad couple, and the high pitched screams of awe suggest that the two might have kissed. District 2 soon follows, its trait being weaponry, and Percy catches sight of Annabeth's smirk on the screens. Next to him, Helen gives a dreamy sigh, watching as Luke waved at the crowd.

Then, their chariot enters the city, and Percy has to focus on the trotting horses in order not to fall. But he soon realizes that the crowd is going crazy, and he gives his most winning smile, twirling the trident before catching someone's flower.

Must've worked in wooing them, because the crowd showers them with chants of their names and as they move by the screens, he sees how breathtaking they really look. He wonders if Nico and his mom are watching this, back home. His smile turns a little more genuine at that, and instead of his white, flashing smile, he gives Panem his crooked, troublemaker grin. Someone actually faints in the crowd, and he feels Helen give a small giggle at that.

The chariots pull into City Circle, and as they come to a stop in front of the President's mansion, the music subdues. President Snow is giving a speech, but for now, all Percy can focus on is the screen. It flickers its focus from one tribute to the other, and for a moment, Percy's face is on one screen, and Annabeth's is on the other. She turns around subtly in her chariot, and gives him a small grin. He almost topples off when the chariot begins to move, but is saved by the strong grip Helen gives to help him up. He thanks her quietly, but she holds on to his hands, and the cameras drink it up, the crowd _aww_ ing.

With Helen's slim fingers wrapped around his, Percy can't help but feel like he's in the wrong story. But before his eyes, Luke brings his arm around Annabeth, and Percy suddenly feels Helen's fight-instinct roll off her in waves. He shrugs in his mind, frowning at the pair, and turn Helen's hand so that their link is more comfortable. After all... _two_ can play at that game.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who replied to my which-arena-should-it-be thingy. Alright, so...I got a review suggesting I make several islands the landscape of the Games, with each of them having different attributes. I thought that was a great idea, so I'm adding that to my list of might-be-arenas.**

 **I'm still hoping for more opinions though...so which should it be? I'm thinking that** **the normal forest scene might be a bit dull. So...a more snowy, blizzardly scene/ desert-ish, dry scene/ a poisony scene (sort of like the 50th Games)/ an everchanging scene (kinda like the labyrinth, were everything reforms and changes once in a while)/the islands scene?**

 **Please let me know which one you think is a fitting arena! I might mix some of them, too. Your opinions are very helpful. Thank you!**


	5. And so, Training Begins

**Author's Note: Gosh...I haven't updated this in about a month! I'm am so, terribly sorry. But my life stared again-waking up early, coming home late, all that delicious what-not. So I'm sorry to say that updates will be slower. But I really, really want to make this story complete, you know? So even if I don't update in a while, I will, someday, update. Please be patient with me.**

 **Thanks to anyone who's reading this now, and especially to those who are favoriting, reviewing, or following this!**

 **Disclaimer: I still own nothing...*gasp***

* * *

"Today," Clarisse starts off in her unique, brutal way, "training starts. You only have these several days, so I suggest you use the time wisely."

From his seat at the dining table, Percy stifles a yawn. He's used to waking up early in the morning, but yesterday's events has worn him down. Clarisse gives him an evil look, and flicks a piece of bacon with her fork to his way. Startled, he sits up, and gives a small sigh.

"So, Prissy, since you seem to be unneeding my advice, I'd like to hear what _you_ can do."

Percy picks the piece of meat from his clean shirt, hating the fact that Clarisse just wasted a good, edible piece of food, and that she had also ruined the most comfortable shirt he could find in the drawer.

"I can breathe underwater," he says, his voice dripping with fake sincerity, "and I'm known in my district for talking to fish. The marketplace... _god_ , Clarisse, it's a _massacre_."

Percy watches, silently triumphant as Clarisse's face turns purple with rage. Next to him, Helen stifles her giggles, and Finnick's eyes dance with laughter.

"Look close, Prissy. I'm not sure what's going on in that head of yours, but you don't talk like that to me. Do you understand? I'll beat you into next week before you can even think about it again."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that. I mean...I'm already thinking about it but-" He frowns mockingly, patting himself down, "I'm still in this week, as far as I'm concerned."

Her fist thrusts itself at Percy, but by some miracle, he dodges the blow. Clarisse lunges again, her face twisted in pure fury, but Finnick stops her in her path, his fork pointed at her chest. He wags it slightly, somehow making it look threatening, and smirks apologetically.

"Wouldn't want a taste of my trident, would you dear?"

To Percy's complete amazement, Clarisse bangs her fist against the table, but grudgingly sits back down. Her murky brown eyes glare out at him, muttering useless threats and curses. Percy, finding this somewhat amusing, dips his roll into his hot chocolate, smirking as he takes a bite.

.

The rest of breakfast is relatively uneventful, but as Percy leaves to return to his room, he sees his mentor leaning on his door. Still twirling that fork in his hand, he steps sideways a little to let Percy pass, following him in without an invitation. He struts in the room, his steps alight with purpose, and he makes himself comfortable on the blue-tinted couch.

"Look, Percy," Finnick says, actually starting to sound like a mentor, "I know that it's hard to work with Clarisse. She's rough. She's demanding. I _get_ it. But you have to remember she's your mentor, too. Of course, she'll be focusing more on Helen, but she'll be there to support you throughout the Games. Understand?"

Percy fidgets under his light sea green eyes, and nods somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry. It's just...she reminds me of bullies, you know? At school, at town, I feel like talking back is the only way to defend myself."

Finnick's eyes soften slightly, and he lets the fork drop with a gentle thud.

"Alright. Just try to be more patient with her, okay? She's been through a lot, too." He breathes through his nose, staring at the rippling blue rug. "Are you thinking of joining the Career group?"

"No. Absolutely not."

Percy's answer comes without hesitation, and Finnick sighs, as if he suspected this.

"Fine. Then it's probably not the best idea to ask of your talents before Helen, hmm? What _can_ you do, besides breathing underwater and speaking to fish?"

"Um...I'm a fisherman. I fish. So I guess I can use the spear to a certain extent, and I can also use a trident, if it's not _too_ heavy. I can tie knots really well, so traps might be okay. And I guess breathing underwater is somewhat close to the truth." He chuckles. "I'm the best swimmer you'll ever meet. _That,_ I can promise you."

Finnick stares at Percy's fingers, and he realizes that he had unknowingly started to twirl his pen. Percy smiles somewhat sheepishly, but as he moves to put it in his pocket, Finnick stops him with a thoughtful look.

"That's good. I suggest you try the tridents during training, but there's no guarantee it'd be in the arena. There's usually always a few spears around, so I say you go and perfect your throw. Try not to attract the Career's attentions, but learning to use it is more important. And…" Finnick pauses, and with a start, Percy notices that it's the first time he's heard Finnick imperfect his speech like that. "Ever had interest in using a sword?"

.

While Atalanta explains the various rules of training, Percy looks around the room. It's _huge_ , really; he's sure this could fit most of the boats of his beachside hometown back in District 4. Training is divided into several stations, and there's quite a several that catch his eyes. Plants, for one, would prove to be usual. The only edible plant _he_ knows is seaweed, but he knows he shouldn't focus on that station. He has some kind of attention disorder, and it'd be impossible to memorize anything like that. His sea green eyes skim the others, stopping at the weapons corner of the room. Spears, tridents; he will try. He glances at the swords that glint from the rack, and it lures him in like a dangerous trap. He blinks a little, shaking his head, and notes the stations he will visit.

Fifteen minutes in, and Percy finds Zoe-the twelve year old girl from District 8-all alone at the knots and traps section. He makes his way over, ignoring the trainer that stands nearby, and speaks, feeling somewhat self conscious under the piercing gaze.

"Hey. I'm Percy, from District 4 and-"

"What do you want?"

Percy's eyebrows shoot up at her interruption, but she doesn't even bat an eyelash. Her obsidian eyes are so similar to Nico's, he thinks, feeling dread fill his heart. They're hardened to the core from the difficulties they've faced, but the edges still softens and shines with innocence.

"You looked lonely, being all alone. I figured you could use some company."

If Zoe's glare is anything of an indication, Percy figures he said something wrong. So he shakes his head, slightly perplexed, and feeling Helen's eyes at the back of his head, tries to start over again.

"Alright, alright. Let me start again. _I_ looked lonely, being all alone, and I figured I could use some company. Do you mind if I sat next to you? I'm Percy Jackson, from District 4."

Zoe rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs at her lips nonetheless, and she scoots over so he can sit. Percy wonders if it's too fast-especially since someone obviously has some trust issues-but he can't help it and blurts out the question.

"Can you-uh...Will you be my ally?"

" _What?_ Of _course_ not. Do I look that _stupid_ to you?"

Percy tries not to feel hurt, but her words are so blunt and sharp that it sort of feels like he's been stabbed. For a while, they sit in awkward silence, Percy still unable to get over the initial shock. But as he watches her deft fingers, something inside him start to loosen.

"District 8, textile," he mutters, amazed, "Gosh, Zoe, you're...this...this is _great_."

Zoe looks up from the elaborate trap, the tips of her ears colored slightly pink.

"Yeah, well, we live surrounded by these things. Weaving, sewing, knitting; everything handy in making trap. I'd expect District 4 to be like that too. Always making nets for fishing, tying the ropes for boats...though I suppose you've never even touched one, for reasons other than training that is."

It takes a moment for Percy to reply, and his eyebrows scrunched up, confused. He has no idea what Zoe is talking about, but an inkling starts to spread in his mind.

"Do you...You think that I'm a Career?"

Zoe looks up, seemingly startled.

"Well, yeah. You're from District 4, a district usually teeming with volunteers. You're only 14, but _no one_ raised their hands for you. Which means you're strong enough that they respect the fact-the honor-that you've been chosen. Also, judging from your interactions with her, you seem pretty close to Helen, and I _know_ for sure that _she's_ a Career. So you add that up, and the obvious answer would be that you're a Career. Simple. See?"

Immediately, everything seems to makes sense. Her obvious hesitance and distaste with him. The way her words dripped with snide. He blinks a little before roaring in laughter, shaking his head as it lessens to chuckles.

"I'm not a Career. I don't want to be a Career. Heck, I _hate_ Careers."

Zoe watches him with eyes like hawks, but something tells him she trusts his word. But even though he can't see them, he knows that from the other side of the room, a pair of steely grey eyes stalk him, listening to his every word.

"My stepbrother is one. The strongest of my district, I think. We share a mutual disliking, so he told his buddies not to volunteer for me. And the interaction with Helen...well, it's not like we're anything special. I don't _think_ so, at least. But she's competitive. Rivalry. I think she's trying to...well, I think we were both trying to be useful to each other."

Zoe remains slightly hesitant, but it's clear-even to him, who's horribly obtuse when it comes to these things-that she's starting to see the pros of their alliance.

"Okay, then. I guess it's okay. It will be wiser to have an ally, though I don't know you enough to completely say yes. We'll see. We'll go about, training separately, seeing how the other is like, and then, at the end, we can decide. Deal?"

Percy's astonished at Zoe's way of words. She looks smart, sure, but it's more like she's _wise with years and experience_ , rather than, say, just born intelligence. And so they go different ways, Zoe still aweing the trainer with her evident skills in weaving traps, and Percy wanders off to the weapons, the silver metals glistening in his eyes.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Note: I know, I know, it's a very unsatisfying chapter, especially considering the very long wait. I'm sorry, but I just needed to get this chapter out of the way. Hopefully, next chapter will have the actual training, the training assessments, and the interviews...**


	6. Under the Shooting Stars

**Author's Note: Hey- I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, but really, I _am_ trying my best. Anyways...I'm sorry. (I seem to be apologizing every chapter, hmm?) I tried writing the training, training assessments, and the interview all in this chapter, but that was...not done, shortly said. It just became too long and it would've taken so much longer to put this chapter up... Yeah...I've decided not to make any promises anymore...*wince***

 **Thanks to everyone who's reading this right now. And I forgot to add this in the chapter before, but thanks to everyone who replied and gave me ideas for the arena! I've got the idea somewhat, and I'll be using some of your ideas...thank you so much for your help.**

 **I own nothing, but please enjoy!**

* * *

Percy steps back a little, his lips twitching in annoyance at just how many knives they put on the racks. He's never even touched these things before, and can't fathom the difference between the one in front of him and the one-for example-on the right top corner. He feels his fingers tap a quick beat on his leg, and he irritably grabs a random knife off the wood, noting its silver blade and the way his face seems distorted in the reflection.

His aim, he finds out, isn't too bad. It's not that different from throwing a spear, and it feels like he's at his home in his domain, hearing the waves lap against his boat. But he blinks his eyes and the dreams are over, and reality hits him in the face. He moves his arm back, body facing slightly to the right, and he lunges forward, knife flying from his hands. It buries itself into the target, but off a little to the left, joining the collection of his previous throws. He frowns, unsatisfied, and reaches for another knife.

But as he grabs a bulky end, cold slim fingers wrap around his, effectively stopping him and nearly stopping his heart also. He turns around, heart still beating in a quick flutterly rhythm, and almost falls over when he sees it's _her._

Her grey eyes are even more startling up close, and it sends a pang through his heart. He finds himself looking for recognition in those eyes, before realizing the close proximity of him and the girl, and suddenly flustered and very much confused, he clears his throat, sure of his burning face. To his relief, Annabeth just chuckles.

"Those knives you choose are way too heavy for you; you rely on momentum to throw them with enough speed. These-" she stops, choosing a slim knife and bringing it to his hand, "-would be more fitting for you."

He takes the knife but freezes again when she grasps the weapon over his hand. A foreign rhythm starts in his heart, and he prays that she can't feel it.

"See? You can hold it more comfortably. Using your weight too much can mess the path of the knife. That's why your knife keeps hitting towards the left. Try it."

She lets go, and maybe it's just his overly-active imagination, but he dares to think that those fingers were reluctant. He finds himself missing that cool feeling a little bit too much.

He draws his arm back for the umpteenth time this hour, and his eyes flick to Annabeth for confirmation. She smiles with a thumbs up and he throws, concentrating on everything he had been told. The knife, though still a _little_ to the left, hits the center ring of the target, and he feels a burst of triumph fill his core. Annabeth claps slowly, approaching him again, and he's once more aware of the eyes of the other tributes. Luke, being crowded by the other Careers, shoots a dirty glare at him, reminding him of the situation he is in.

"Um...Thanks, for teaching me and stuff, but...uh...why? Why'd you help me?"

Annabeth smirks, actually looking the Career she no doubt is, and twirls her own knife before burying it in the dead center of the target. Percy gapes at the graceful throw, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, lips still stretched in that sudden sneer.

"Don't take it the wrong way, Percy. I'm still a Career and you're still a fisherman. I simply couldn't take it, watching your pathetic throws. I like perfection, you see."

Percy bites his lip in order to keep in a snarky reply, because to be fair, she _did_ help him. And something makes him believe that she's not telling the truth-her eyes flickered to Luke moments before she spoke. He lets himself think that she was lying for the safety of both of them, and thanks her again as respectfully as he can.

.

By the time his feet leads him to the swords area, Zoe seems acquaintanced to the District 10 girl, talking with obvious interest as she teaches the older looking girl how to use a bow. If he remembers clearly, that is Bianca Angell, the fifteen year old who looks so much like Nico he freaked out when he re-watched the Reapings for the second time. Onyx eyes, dark brown hair; if he didn't know better, he'd say that she _is_ Nico's older sister. But seeing as they're from different districts, and Nico has always been his only cousin, he had forced that ridiculous thought out of his head. But seeing them together still unsettles him, for he wonders briefly; _what if she allies with Bianca instead?_ Not that he's so desperate on pairing with Zoe, but he knows it's better to have an ally, and he never once thought that Zoe could _refuse_ … He shakes his head, turning around, reminding himself that technically, he did the same thing. Though she's a Career and has her own group, perhaps Zoe thought the same when she saw him with Annabeth.

He stops before the dozens of swords, eyeing each one and seeing how they glint in the light. He skims his fingers over every hilt before grasping the sword he feels is right. Of course, he has only seen these in the past Hunger Games, and his feelings could be totally and completely wrong, but something about swords feels almost... _natural_. He lifts it up, weighing it in his hand, and unlike in the past stations he's been to, the trainer is quick to come to his aid. He practices the basic moves, blocking, stabbing, and slashing through the air, and the trainer appraises him on his natural abilities. But something nags at the back of his mind, telling him it's not _just_ his natural abilities, and that at one point, he must have used a sword, wielded it even, and had battled through countless enemies to come… Though, of course, he has no memory of such a thing. His life before the Reaping had been simple and peaceful, quiet even, lived with a family of three and fishing before each morning. Not once had he imagined using a sword, though once or twice, Triton had jeered the fact that he was way better than Percy (to which he thought _no freaking duh_ for once again, he's _not_ some _stupid bloodthirsty Career_ ).

Time flies as he holds the weapon, and just before training ends, he dares to ask the trainer to a match, and as he had suspected, he wins, almost too easily.

And that scares him the _most._

.

He takes a quick shower before dinner, and the ocean scented water cascades down his tired body. Natural or not, he's not used to training with weapons so much, and his muscles protest with almost every move.

He's on his couch, thinking of nothing in particular when his mentor comes in (again without knocking, much to his distaste). Percy has half a mind to ignore him, because honestly, the Finnick at dinner disturbed him and reminded him of who he really is. The man who _wronged_ his whole District, changed its reputation from fishing to _seduction_ … And clearly had some meetings with Aurora that he really did not need to know about.

"I want you to win."

Those words are abrupt, simple and non-sugar coated, and it takes a while for them to sink in.

"Um...Thanks?"

Finnick sits down next to him, and the air around him seems to sigh.

"You...remind me of myself. Before my Games. Young. Natural. Wild; unpredictable. A little out of place, maybe. A little bad with words. Oblivious. Handsome." A bitter laugh falls from his lips. It sounds so un-Finnick-like that Percy can't help but wince. "You're different than me, though. Better. You haven't trained to kill other children. But something tells me you have a chance. I...can't be there for you the night before the Games begin. I have...business, I suppose, to attend. So I'm going to tell you everything, now. How to fight. How to survive. How to _live._ "

Percy nods, feeling strange. Being told by Finnick himself that _he-_ the one who doesn't even know if he _wants_ to win-is similar to him as a child...is strange. He has the feeling that Finnick doesn't do this for every tribute, so he leans in, his head propped on his elbow, and listens as his mentor starts his very long tutoring.

.

It's way past midnight when Finnick finally leaves, but his words circle his head for so much longer. He jumps to his bed, sinking in the mattress. His body is tired, but his mind is awake, so he lays down, sprawled, finally letting everything catch up to him.

The Reaping. His name being called. Seeing Annabeth. The parade. Zoe. Training.

He groans softly, feeling a headache start to form. Gosh, everything was so messed up. Just a few days ago, he was still in District 4, fishing with his father, going to school with his friends, having a normal sized dinner with his cousin and mother… Now he's in the plushy, rich bed of the Capitol, knowing he might only have a few more days to live.

He was reaped for the Hunger Games.

It's still hard to believe.

In a few days, twenty three tributes- _kids_ -would die. More likely than not, he would be one of them, just a corpse sent home in a box. His fingers roll the pen on the bed, and suddenly he feels exhaustion way down. His father, the ocean; would he ever see them again? All those colorful fish, the way they seem to gather just for him. The way he'd be able to simply weave through the water, not one fear or worry lacing through his mind. He'd swim to his boat, and find his father there, in his Khaki shorts and dark sunglasses, the ends of his eyes crinkling in a smile, his sea green eyes undoubtedly sparkling.

Nico, too, what would he think if he were to see Percy die? No doubt it'll scar him for the rest of his life, but would it be more than that? Percy knows they're more brothers than cousins, and he's one of the only blood relatives that care for Nico. What would happen to him, if he were to _die_?

And his mother- _gosh_ , his mother-he's not so sure about Nico, but he knows for sure that Sally would watch the Games, live. Her only son, dying in front of her-would she be okay? She's strong and fierce, but she can't work more than she does already. If he were gone, would Poseidon still share part of the day's catch? Would he risk the punishment of the Capitol to do so?

For perhaps the first time, Percy realizes just how much he misses them. His joyous father, who always smiled; his beautiful, caring mother, he best person in the world; his young, mischievous cousin, who never let him be late to school; his best friend Grover, who he couldn't even say goodbye to, due to his crippled leg… He misses them all. The splashing waters, the blue foods, the "lessons" he had with Hermes at the marketplace…

 _You have to win, Percy. Promise me?_

Percy runs his hand through his hair, tired. He can hear Finnick walk by his door, but this time, he doesn't stop, and keeps on going.

 _You're a fighter. You're a hero. You're strong._

 _I love you. Remember that, okay?_

 _You were always my favorite son._

 _Just-please, promise us you'll win?_

Before he knows it, he's fallen asleep. But he hears a voice- _his_ voice-answering to the questions that shouldn't be asked.

 _I...I'll try._

 _._

For Percy, training is both exhilarating and exhausting. He breezes through from station to station, never staying long enough to fully catch the attention of the Careers, but soon enough, he finds himself at the swords area again, except he's having a match with _Luke_ this time, and though he thinks this is totally bizarre, he feels nostalgia waver through him. He knows, without looking, that at least Zoe, Annabeth, and the other Careers are all watching to see how this plays out. He tightens his grip on his sword, getting in stance for the match.

For a while, they circle around each other, but Luke lunges first, his patience running thin. Percy is quick to dodge, though, and uses the momentum to slash where his opponent stands. Luke, however, has been holding a sword for probably as long as he could stand on two legs. He strikes back with ease, and with the advantage of strength he has over Percy, pushes him back with his weapon. They go about in this dangerous dance, slashing, pouncing, dodging, and he knows for a fact that everyone is surprised, because to be honest, so is he. He has no idea how he's keeping this up, and with probably the best Career of District 2, too. It doesn't cross his mind that Finnick told him to keep it low, and with a burst of chance and something like thrill, he twists and strikes, and Luke's sword lands on the floor with a clatter.

For moment, all is silent. Then, sparsely, quietly, the tributes begin to clap. Percy stands, dumbfounded, and Luke clenches his fists.

"Beginner's luck." he spits out, and storms away from the training room itself. The trainers, apparently having realized the time, tells everyone to leave as well. Percy stays behind, reluctant to leave, because it's the last day of training and the days have gone by just too quickly. He hasn't had the time to spend too much at the plants or camouflage sections, and he's still unsure if he can even create a fire. He only knows first aid to the extent needed at sea, and he knows he's horrible with a bow and arrow...

He jumps back when someone taps him on the shoulder, and he turns around to the only twelve year old. Deep in thought and slightly shy, she nods in confirmation, as if agreeing with herself. Percy blinks owlishly for at least three times. She rolls her eyes, annoyed, and he still doesn't get it.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to ally with a fishface like you."

... _Oh. Ooooooh. I see._

"Um...Did you just agree because you saw me win against Luke? Because if that's it, then I'm-"

"No! No. I've been wanting you as an ally since I saw the Reaping recaps. It's just, when you asked me to ally with you, I thought you were doing it either because you wanted to kill me, or because you felt pity for me. I figured if so, you'd stop wanting to be an ally once I decline the offer once, but I was...admittedly surprised to see that you actually wanted me as an ally. Will you be my ally, or not? Because I don't have that much time…"

"Yes. I mean, yeah. Well, please, that is. Sort of. Like, I really want you as an ally."

He puts his sword away, laughing, and takes her in for a squishing hug. She squirms so much that he lets go, but the stupid grin never leaves his face.

He wonders if anyone from District 4 has ever been so happy to ally with a District 8 twelve year old. Then he chastises himself for thinking that in the first place, for it doesn't matter if he's from District 4 and she's from District 8, because he's Percy and she's Zoe and home Districts doesn't matter in that sense.

Besides, he's seen Zoe shoot. He knows without a doubt that she'd have everyone running for their money in the arena. Goodness knows he's got the best ally. (He chooses to ignore the part of him that whispers in his mind the dreaded words; _what about Annabeth, Percy? Wouldn't **she** be **your** best?_ )

.

That night, Percy can't go to sleep. With the Games coming closer and closer, and knowing that the personal assessments are tomorrow, he finds it a little bit hard to breathe. Finnick's tried his best to calm him-thus the bowl of sugar cubes on his table-but all it did was wake his hyper-active mind. He blinks in the darkness, his green eyes glowing, because they refuse to close to the embrace of sleep. In a few days, he could be dead. _Dead_. How foreign that word sounds in his mind.

His thoughts go back to his mentor's advice, the words that spilled over like an icy current, leaving him numb and feeling...betrayed.

 _You're a fisher, correct? You go out each day, spearing dozens of fish, and for what reason? To survive. It's the same in the Games, Percy. Remember, back home, the fiercer the creature, the more pricy it's sold? It's the same. You have to catch those fish in order to live another day, and the stronger your fish is, the higher your chances of surviving gets. Why? Sponsors. It's how I won, and with that face of yours, you can probably do it too. Is it immoral? Sure. Inhuman? Absolutely. Wrong? I'll say so without a doubt in my mind. But it keeps you alive, and in the end, that's what's important._

 _Discard everything that slows you down in the arena-fears, care, morality. It's either you or them, and for goodness sake make sure it's not you who die. Show them mercy by killing them easy. It's how the Games work. Survive, Percy. You're too human to die in such a twisted game._

It's funny how much different Finnick can be. He takes a sugar cube, rolls it around, and plops it in his mouth, hating the fact that he understood his mentor. The bitter tone he carries around only hints at what the Games would do.

.

There's not one ray of light in his Capitol enhanced room, and without a single guide, he can't tell where the light switch is. _Or did this fancy room not even have one to begin with?_ All of his thoughts are going in circles, and he starts to find it hard to concentrate. Is it just the darkness, or are the walls slowly closing in? They seem to push forward, cramping him in, leaving him no air to take in...

With a gasp, he stands, and with shaking hands, grabs a coat, slamming the door as he heads out.

The hallways are lit up, a little bit creepy but brighter nonetheless. He takes a moment to breathe in slowly, and start to head out, anywhere to get his mind away. His fingers fiddle with the pen again, and his eyes trace the marble tiles on the floor.

 _One, two, three, four…_

Sea green eyes widen when the lines on the marble floor comes to a sudden stop, for there's two shoes lined neatly right there, and he's half afraid to look up.

Because, well, he knows _exactly_ who's shoes they are.

.

Percy gives up on counting the stars once he reaches his 129th. There's still a lot more, of course, but he can't help but notice that the city lights diminish the radiant beauty of the stars. His fingers play with the pen in his hands, because it's too awkward to _not_ do anything.

"Um...Thanks for teaching me how to use a knife. It helped, a lot." He thanks her again, _just_ to dissipate some of their tension. Not that it works.

"Mhm," Annabeth replies vaguely.

"Why were you out in the hallways so late at night?"

"I could ask you the same, Perseus."

Something glints by her throat, and Percy finds her fingering a silver necklace.

"Is that...your District token?"

Annabeth looks slightly surprised, as if she hadn't noticed her actions, and her grey eyes turn stormy-stormier than usual, that is. But though he completely expects her to do otherwise, she answers with a voice that sounds _almost_ soft.

"Yeah...It's a necklace my mother gave me for my birthday, years ago. I have a stepmother now, and this necklace is one of the only things I have of her."

Percy knows he should just nod, but curiosity gets the better of him.

"Is your mom...um...is she…?"

She blinks a little, then looks shocked, and shakes her head in a hurry.

"Oh no. She lives in the Capitol now. She's a Gamemaker, you see. I've lived my whole life trying to make her proud, and tomorrow's the chance to do so."

Percy simply nods this time, for this isn't something he can relate to. He's nervous because he's sure of his death, and she's nervous because she wants to make her mother proud. Such differences born from the same circumstances. They were both reaped. They could both die. But one was confident and one was not.

"I really do wish to make her proud."

For some reason, the image of the silver owl pendant laying lightly by her tan skin burns in his mind, remaining there. Such an expensive looking thing, it's eyes glowing gems, yet nothing to repay for leaving a young child. He wonders slightly how Annabeth holds no grudges for her mother. Percy spent years glaring at his father, even when he knew he really had no choice. But judging from the way she talked, Annabeth's mom had a choice. And she chose to leave her daughter.

Some time between a friendly conversation, he finds himself counting the stars again. He's comfortable- _too_ comfortable with Annabeth, and before he knows it, there's stars shooting across the dark sky, and he mutters _Please let us both survive_ with two fingers against his beating heart. He's not sure if he means him and Annabeth or him and Zoe, but there's a moment of silence where Annabeth watches him in bewilderment, and he finds himself truly wishing for another story. Another story in which _this_ wasn't forbidden, in which they didn't have to be enemies, in which her mother never left Annabeth and his father was still home and he was still at the beach shores, under the stars with this girl.

He stays above with her until he's half in his dreams, but he's awake enough to feel her lips press quickly and lightly upon his cheek. It tingles and lingers for so much longer.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Note: I know this story kind of seems stretched out, and I'm sorry it's taking so long to actually get to the excitement of the Games. But I want to focus on the relationships of Percy and Finnick, Percy and Annabeth, and Percy and Zoe, because otherwise, this story would be really hard to expand from here. Thank you for your understanding. :D**


	7. The Bull in the City

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is such a late update, but October was a really busy month for me, and before I knew it, half of November was over... I could come up with a million excuses, but I know you wouldn't want to hear such things...**

 **Thanks to all of you who favorited, followed, or read this, and a special thanks to all that reviewed it!** **Here's the chapter that really should have been updated weeks ago, and I hope you enjoy it! Fingers crossed that the next update would be faster X0**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

* * *

Percy can feel the Gamemaker's gaze even before he enters the room, and they only intensify without the metal doors. He clears his throat consciously, and dumly introduces himself.

"Uh...Percy Jackson, District 4."

If there is any indication to them hearing him, it's the flitting of annoyance across their faces. They don't even bother to tell him to begin. Feeling even more stupid than before, he drags his feet to the sword station. He knows the Gamemakers are watching simply because he's from a Career district, and he can't say he's excited to see their disappointed faces. He activates the dummies before standing with his sword, and waits patiently for them to attack. Dummy #1 charges with an axe, and he easily dodges to the side while sticking his feet out. He hasn't really had the time to train with dummies, but he learns quickly that they're as dumb as their name. Dummy #1 falls flat on its face, and somehow manage to stab itself. Dummy #2 and 3 are a little more intelligent than their fallen friend and attack together from both his sides. He ducks from the swing of #3's sword and cuts its stomach open in a single motion, and straightens just fast enough to parry #2's dagger. It takes another stab at his chest, but he steps to the side, twirls away from the path of #4's arrow, and beheads #2 while he's at it. He charges at #5, somersaults over its head, and stabs #4 before slashing down #5.

He blinks a little at the fallen dummies, half disbelieving that _he_ did this-he's not _Luke,_ after all. But when he glances over to the Gamemakers (a little proudly too, he might add), he realizes that they aren't impressed. _They've seen this before_ , he curses. _With Sirius. With Luke. With all the other tributes from years and years before._ He takes a moment to scold himself for not coming up with a plan earlier, and after randomly grabbing a knife from the racks, his eyes search the room for something impressive-something _different_.

.

He's not sure whether to laugh or cry when his wish is granted, because it comes in the form of...of…

.

 _A bull. No, a man. Big. Very big. Oh god._ _Ohgodohgodohgodohgod._

Percy backs up, half stumbling over his own feet, and blinks hard. _Still there._ He takes a moment to glance up at the Gamemakers, only to see that they're completely unfazed, though perhaps it's the light-their eyes look slightly glazed over.

 _Except for one._

Hard grey eyes slightly wide, mouth pressed thin and curls cascading down her shoulders, it doesn't take much for him to recognize the similarity between her and Annabeth. _Athena_ , the name pops in his mind.

 _So it's not just me. Somebody else sees this. Thank god, I'm not going crazy-_

The bull-man bellows in rage and takes that moment to charge, so his mind completely turns white.

 _Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…_

"Perseus!"

The sharp voice snaps him out of his stupidity, fast enough to carry his panicked, stiff body to the other side of the room. This time, he'll admit it-his hands are shaking, beads of sweat cling to his forehead, and he is scared enough to trust the voice of the lady he knows abandoned his friend at a young age for a position in the annual games to the death.

"When he charges, wait until the last second, then jump out of the way, directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

Percy mutely nods, feeling a little faint, yet also familiar to this _peculiar_ situation he's found himself in. _Nowhere_ in the Hunger Games introductions was it _ever_ mentioned a fight with a _bull._ A monstrous, disgusting, not-of-this world _bull_.

The bull-man is easily seven-feet tall, and his limbs are pretty much _coated_ in muscle. While his bottom half is human-or as human as a seven feet guy wearing a bright, white, Fruit of Looms could ever be-his top is a jungle of thick brown fur, and his head has a _snout_ as long as his arm and ginormous horns so pointed they could probably carve his name on the metal doors and come back with them pointed enough to skewer him fifty times.

The bull roars angrily again and huffs, swaying its head right and left like a madman's lullaby. It's beady red eyes pinpoint on Percy, and he suddenly feels so, so angry.

 _Okay,_ he thinks, _I was looking for something different to impress the Gamemakers._ _ **Yeah,**_ _this is different, but this is going to get me_ _ **killed.**_ _Not to mention it'd be for nothing, because no one other than Athena is even_ _ **looking**_ _this way._

The bull's bellowing echoes again, and Percy has to agree with the cow. Newfound strength surges through his veins, and he screams in reply; "Hey! Hey stupid! Ground beef!"

Percy tensed as the bull charged again, and waited until the last moment to meet the bull in a sprint. It straightens after his face is stampeded on and Percy uses the momentum to jump, clinging desperately onto the ropes attached to the ceiling for training. The bull-man looks around, confused and clearly frustrated, and Percy's fingers bump into the hilt of the knife that he must have unconsciously kept on him in the mess. _Crazy idea time._

A small smile works on his lips, and he calls out to the bull-man again, raising his voice.

"Hey rotten meat! Lookup! Yoo-hoo!"

The bull pauses for a moment, nostrils flaring, and faces up with an expression that can only be described as a prideful _Ha!_ Of course, his victory is short-filled, because Percy chooses that moment to strike.

He drops, his heels landing perfectly on the bull's eyes, and slams down his knife as hard as he could, embedding it as deeply as he could in the monster's skull. The bull-man roars in pain and shakes his head, throwing Percy off and slamming him down to the marble floors. But even though he's blinking away spots and trying to roll away, he can see the damage is done; that it stands no chance. Looking like a bloody mess of a unicorn, it slowly sinks to its knees, and vanishes into thin air as golden dust.

Percy groans and rubs his eyes again, but the thudding pain in his head tells him it was not his imagination. He looks to the Gamemakers to find them still blissfully ignorant, but Athena points to the ground by him and gives him an approving look.

"Don't forget your spoil of war."

Percy stands up, takes a moment to clear his pounding head, grabs the bull's horn that lays on the floor, and bows and leaves without a dismissal.

Whatever _that_ was, he figures it's better not to think too much of it. Not now, anyways. Perhaps later, when his head is no longer so _befuddled_ …

.

"Now tell me again. _How_ did you manage to get bruised up so bad in _personal assessments_?"

Percy sighs, holding the ice against his head and trying to come up with an excuse.

"I don't know. I was sword-fighting against the dummies, but it didn't seem like the Gamemakers were interested, so I tried to do this complicated knot with a rope from the ceiling but...I slipped...and, uh, bam goes my head."

Finnick scrunches his eyebrows, clearly not believing the story, but having no other source to really trust, he shakes his head, before holding it in his hands.

" _Seriously?_ By God, Percy, the sword-fighting would have been enough. If you actually fell-from the ceiling no less!-oh God. _Why_ would you?"

"I'm _sorry_."

He pulls his hands down his face, groaning, and Percy feels a tad-bit bad. He knows this is putting a lot of stress on his mentor, but what can he say? _Oh yeah, this bull-man decided to attack me. It's okay though! I totally beat it by turning it into a grotesque unicorn._ He's having a hard time believing it himself-and he experienced it with his very own body. There's no way Finnick would ever believe that, and he'd just probably wound up proclaimed crazy before he even _entered_ the Games. _Stupid, stupid, stupid bull._

"You better do extra good at the interviews if your score isn't good. Got it?"

Percy grins, glad he's being taken off the hook so easily. At least there's somebody putting their trust in him. It makes him guilty that it's so easy to lie, but he tells himself it's necessary.

 _Thank you Finnick. I owe you one._

 _._

Turns out he gets a ten, which is way more than he dared to hope for. He suddenly gets a flash of an image of Athena giving him a grudging smile, and he sends a quick thank you in his mind. Silena squeals in delight the moment the score is up, and he can see Finnick's jaw drop from over Silena's hug. Helen gets an eight, which isn't bad at all, but Percy figures it's not very good in Career terms, especially if their non-Career partner got a ten. She storms out before anyone has a chance to react, putting a slight damp in the atmosphere, but Clarisse is a sportsman enough to congratulate him, and that is enough to boost his spirits again.

"Good job, Jackson." She searches his face. "Maybe we'll have a winner this year."

Aurora, on the other hand, gives a somewhat annoyed huff, and leaves to chase after Helen. It's clear she has something against Percy, and though he doesn't really get it, he shrugs it off because he's in a good mood.

Sirius, Helen, Jade, and surprisingly Medea receive eights, and Antaeus gets a seven. Unexpectedly, Pompeii-the scary looking partner of Jade-only has a four. Crystal is the only one that draws a nine, and just as he had predicted, both Luke and Annabeth come up with flashing 10's. He gives a little whoop when he sees that Zoe receives an eight, and wonders what it's like for Nico and his mother, who are no doubt watching this too. Are the proud? Worried? Hopeful?

After tomorrow's interview, he'd be in the arena, fighting along with twenty three other children. He figures the most he can do tonight is enjoy the time he has left, and he graciously accepts a sugar cube from Finnick and celebrates the night away.

(He simply shrugs and laughs _good luck?_ when Finnick asks how he got a ten with a fail and a fall from the ceiling ropes.)

.

Of course, Helen and Percy is coached separately for the interviews. Where she had once been so friendly and warm towards him, Helen is now closed off and angry, ignoring all attempts at a conversation during breakfast. He thinks she's still upset about the scores, and then bitterly realizes this is probably better, because they'd be enemies soon enough, anyways. How close they had gotten in these weeks wouldn't matter-he knows without a doubt she'd kill him, perhaps enjoy it too, if she's in the right mood. Thankfully, she's coached with Aurora first, so he has the first three hours to Finnick.

Percy is not a smooth talker-never has been, and probably never will be. But Finnick figures it's okay, as it helps with his apparent "angle" of funny, sarcastic, and a mix of confidence and modesty. He can tell that his mentor is satisfied, right until they practice the interviews with Finnick acting as Caesar Flickerman, the interviewer.

"So, Percy. It's not so hard to imagine that the Capitol is quite different from District Four. What do you find the most impressive?"

"I-I'm enjoying the Capitol too much to be expressed in words, really, and I'm not sure if I can cut it down to one. As you said, everything is different, and it amazes me. The food, for example, is godly. And the scented showers is something else, definitely. I think what I enjoy the most is the people, though. You know, watching them acting all ridiculous and looking like someone barfed up rainbows on them; it never gets too old."

"Your costume for the Parade was aweing. How did you feel, on that chariot, dressed so exotically and yet so charmingly?"

"Well, I felt like Poseidon, you know, the god of the oceans from the myths that you guys made forbidden? I felt powerful. Strong. Different, but the good kind. I felt like a part of a story that's been hidden too long, and is about to crack and drench the world in gold."

Finnick sighs and rolls his eyes in frustration.

"Really, can't you say the answers with _out_ provoking the Capitol so much? All the answers would be fine if _not_ for the unnecessary criticism against our society. _Really,_ Percy. Just try, okay?"

And he does. But there's something that prevents him from thinking before speaking, and he can't stop his tongue from spitting out insults. He's not sure why he feels so guilty. He knows what he's saying is true, but the pleading look in Finnick's eyes stabs him every time he can't stop himself. By the time the morning is over, he is exhausted and feeling horrible about himself, the Games, and even Finnick for excepting so much from him when he just-can't-do-it.

.

The murderous clip of Helen's steps hints that the lessons from Aurora are no better, and the afternoon does nothing but prove it. Percy finds him grateful that he's a guy, because he can imagine Aurora ratting Helen out about how to wear heels, and it's honestly not a very nice image. He doesn't have to learn how to walk-since his angle is pretty much himself, and they want him walking the way he usually does; apparently it has the right touch of confidence and leader-like stance (not that he gets it) and it's good enough that they'd let him keep it-but according to Aurora, he needs to be taught how to _sit_ , and it really makes him feel like some kind of naughty dog.

" _Stop_ tapping your feet like that!"

"Ah ah ah! Your _fingers,_ Perseus! You're not a drummer!"

"Just _where_ did you get that pen?"

Percy hisses under his breath when Aurora hits his knee again, rolling his eyes at her stupid rant. He's _always_ had this problem where he can't keep himself still for a long time, and as far as he's concerned, Aurora is simply making things worse.

"I _can't,_ Aurora. It's literally splitting my head from just trying to concentrate for so long-"

" _Concentrate?_ " she screeches, "You call _this_ concentrating? Honestly, you make me laugh. Here I am, trying to tell you to simply _sit still_ -it's something that _normal_ people can do without being taught."

"Aurora-"

"-And yet, you're still tapping away with your shoes even now, rolling your eyes and not listening to a word I say."

"I _am_ listening, Aurora! _You'_ re not listening to _me!_ "

"-You don't want my help, is that it? You think you don't need it; that's right. I hit jackpot, didn't I? You don't want it? _Fine._ Tell Finnick I'm done with this year; I know for sure I won't be needed again. Enjoy the rest of your life, _Perseus._ "

Aurora stands up, her face flushed from excitement, and takes her purse angrily off the table. _Stupid overdramatic Capitol women._ She clenches her jaw, glares one last time, and moves to leave.

"I don't even know why you hate me so much." Percy confesses, feeling frustrated for being scolded for all the things he never did, "But whatever it is, it's fine. Tomorrow, after the interviews, we'll never see each other again, like you said. I don't know about Helen, but I know...well, the odds are against me coming out alive. But I don't want you to leave," he gestures to her, "like _this._ Maybe you hate me. Maybe you can't wait for me to die. That's _fine,_ but I'd like you to remember that it was _you_ who drew my name and sealed my fate to the Games in the first place. You might say it's your job, true, but you _chose_ to have this job, didn't you?"

Percy stands up and walks over to her.

"Get this, Aurora. _You_ got to choose your dream job and pursue it all you want. _You_ get to travel between districts, escorting the tributes in the face of Panem. But know that you're stealing the lives of every tribute you ever call the name of. Once you _choose_ us, we don't get to chase our dreams. We don't get to see our family or return home without a scar. For whatever reasons you have, you can hate me all you want. But before you leave, I want you to know that I hate you all the more. I hate you, because it was your voice I heard, clearly calling out my name so I could die in these ridiculous Games. I hate you because you think you're right and perfect and innocent and all when all you know to do is murder innocent children. Another tribute might kill me. A mutt might kill me. But it'll be your voice I hear, calling out my name in Town Square. If you're going to leave, by all means do so. But you better remember _me_ , Aurora. Remember me when I die. Know it was you who killed me."

In the end, it's Percy who storms away first, slamming the door and leaving Aurora dumbstruck and dripping tears. Whether of regret or shock or anger, he doesn't know, but seeing it leaves a sick satisfaction in his stomach, and he enters his room feeling strangely fresh yet uncomfortably cruel as well. He decides not to dwell on it and instead buries himself in bed, knowing Finnick would try to come in the moment he hears about the incident. He draws the blankets above his head, his face hot against the air inside, and slowly drifts away to sleep.

.

"Perseus."

Percy groans against the mattress of the bed, but jumps awake as soon as he recognizes the voice.

"Helen?"

He opens the door, hurriedly buttoning up his shirt, and waits patiently for her to elaborate her being there.

"I came to wake you since...well, Aurora left yesterday saying she didn't feel too good. But also, I...I know I've been acting angry and upset and all, and I'm sorry about that. It wasn't right for me to use my frustration against you. I know we're not allies and all, but I wanted to fix something before...you know. I wanted to congratulate you. On your training score, and everything else. Even though I shouldn't say this since-once again, we're not allies-if I...don't make it, I want you to win. You deserve to live, Perseus. I…" she smiles bashfully, and he remembers the first time he saw her, how he thought her eyes as dull and uninteresting. They stare out at him shy yet intent, and he realizes just how wrong he was. They are deep green and brown, sort of like the earth and the small sprouts in the spring, and he finds himself smiling back, and truthfully, too.

"Thanks. That...that means a lot. Congratulations to you, for getting into the Career group. I know how much you wanted to-though of course, we both knew you'd be invited. I know I probably shouldn't, but I want you to know that I consider you a friend. Even if it was only for a short time. You're from my home, and you were nice to me...most of the time." He chuckles. "Please, can you call me Percy? It's what-"

"It's what Finnick and Silena calls you."

She laughs, looking relieved and honored, and Percy so wishes they had more time. Wishes they didn't have to face other children-maybe each other-in less than perhaps twenty-four hours. She draws her hair back behind her ears before reaching down and holding his hand.

"I know we have like another day, but good luck, okay?"

He looks down to her hands, wrapping his like it's her lifeline. Like it's the one thing keeping her from losing herself, and he figures that might just be true. He has Finnick, Silena, Zoe...Annabeth. But for all he knows, Helen doesn't have anybody here. Clarisse cares about her just as much as she cares about makeup, and the Career pack is composed mostly by some unspoken tradition rather than friendship or trust. The only person who seemed to even remotely look after her was Aurora, and Percy had driven her away yesterday. All of a sudden, guilt gnaws at his insides, and he makes a rash decision to put his arms around the older girl before him.

"You too, Helen. Good luck."

After her initial shock, her tension leaves and she hugs him back for just a second. She holds him out in arm's length and lets her eyes swim about his face before they hear her stylist call for her.

"May the odds be ever in your favor, Percy."

"You too."

And that's it. He feels that somehow this is _right,_ and he sticks his hands in his pajama pockets, turning around and leaving the hallways. Leaving _Helen_ , the last piece of home in this world, and changes to new Capitol clothes.

.

Percy notices how Silena's hands linger each time she fixes something about his clothes, and though he doesn't say it out loud, he secretly hates the look of sadness in her large brown eyes. He knows the Games are tomorrow-yeah, he's had enough reminders-that all it does now is annoy him to no end when he sees sympathy reflected on anyone's faces. The only people who showed no differences were Finnick and Clarisse, and he respects the past Victors for that because they've been through everything and came out stronger; in most cases, anyways.

Silena's slim hands guide him over to the mirror, and this time, he sees himself in dark blue formal pants, modest and rather normal compared to the last time he's had the stylists dress him up. Just, of course, the front of his shirt is messily open to the middle and there's a necklace strung on his neck again, only this time there's a dully sharpened rock as a pendant, not the clay beads he had liked before. Though, he supposes, this does look better with the shirt. His heart stops a little when he thinks his _mom_ is going to see him dressed like this, but he calms down when he figures he looked more "inappropriate" in the Parade than this, and laughs a little to himself for worrying about such a thing, when he knew his mother wouldn't care as long as he's alive and okay. (And who knows how long that'll last, hmm?)

He gets a pat on his messily styled hair from Silena before he's ushered to his spot to the side of the stage, and maybe it's just his imagination, but when she whispers _you'll do great_ in his ear, a sweet fog drapes over his mind and convinces him that he will, indeed, do fine.

.

Because he's from District 4, he has no time to be nervous before it's his time to step on stage. For a moment or two, he's blinded by the sheer amount of lights that are directed his way, but he forces his mind to focus on his job, and waves a little to the screaming crowds before stopping in front of Caesar and shaking his hand.

"Alright, Perseus. You made yourself quite a crowd of fans when you rode out on that chariot for the Opening Parade, and then again when your training score of ten was announced."

The crowd cheers and hoots at his supposed accomplishments, and Percy looks out to the audience, seeing that, in fact, all these people were cheering for him. _Unbelievable_. But _awesome._

"Tell us, how'd you manage to capture our hearts in such a short time?"

Percy gives an easy laugh, trying to look a little bit flustered.

"I think it's better if you answer that question for me, not the other way around."

He thinks he's just made the most awkward remark in his whole life, but thankfully Caesar saves him in a heartbeat.

"Well, I'm sure a _lot_ of people here would be willing to explain their answers for you."

He gives a suggestive look to the crowd and it goes crazy, and Percy's pretty sure he hears someone scream "Marry me Perseus!". While that is a little disturbing, to be honest, he knows he owes one to the man and his genius at being an interviewer.

"Still," he continues after a pause, "give us a hint of what you did to get a ten, Perseus. It's an amazing score, especially for someone young like you."

"I can't really give you the details since that's for me to know and you to find out," he throws a wink at the crowd for good measure, and the ladies' screams assure him he did the right thing, "but what I _will_ tell you is that I felt different. Like, stronger. More powerful. I actually felt the same during the Parade, right after I stopped worrying about what my mom would think."

The crowd roars in laughter, and he allows himself a more relaxed smile.

"Invincible. Like...like I'm the son of the sea." He glances out to see if anyone reacts, but when no one does anything but lean in to hear more, he continues, feeling relieved yet somewhat disappointed. "The ocean is uncontrollable and free, and I felt like I was a part of it."

"I think I'm speaking for the whole country when I say it's because you _are_ powerful. And I'm sure we'll see more of it in the actual Games. Speaking of powerful, I want you to tell us more about what happened at the Reaping. If there's one word to describe _that_ , I think it would be powerful."

Percy looks down at his hands that are tightly clasped together to keep from fiddling with each other.

"That was my cousin, Nico. He's like my brother, though, and well, you saw him; he's my little soldier. I swear, he looked more brave than me in the Recaps I saw, and he's only eleven."

Laughter rolls off the crowd like a wave, and he's glad the people in the Capitol are more lenient in their humor. He'd hate it if no one noticed it as a joke.

"What did he say, after the Reaping?"

"He…" Percy faces the cameras, hoping this reaches to his family back home, "He told me I was his hero, and that's the best thing he could have said. I want to tell him that I'll try in the Games; that I'll try to stay the hero that he believes I am."

Caesar wipes a tear from the corner of his eyes, though true or fake, he's not so sure.

"And a hero you'll be. Alright, one last question that I know all the ladies here are dying to know. Do you have a lady back home, waiting for you?"

This time, he can't help it; he lets out a real burst of laughter, trying not to snort or anything unattractive to the sponsors like that.

"Oh god, no, Caesar. The most I could do was stare at the pretty girls, knowing they won't spare me a single glance. You can tell this is a bit of a new experience for me."

Caesar laughs, as does the crowd, and flawlessly continues the chat.

"Any one girl in particular?"

Percy's just about to say no, but before the word slips from his tongue, it gets stuck, and he finds himself glancing to side stage, where all the other tributes sit. Unconsciously, his mind draws up an image of startling grey eyes and princess blonde hair, and a nice golden tan beneath the red silky fabric, and he frantically shakes his head to rid the image.

"I can't tell yet, not now, at least. Perhaps," he says, his sea green eyes scanning through the crowds, seeing all the greedy eyes withing he'd call out their name, "perhaps you'll find out someday. If it's you, you'll know." A small troublemaker grin plays on his lips, and he flashes the smirk to the one he hopes is the main camera. "And I'll be back for you."

Caesar Flickerman gives a hoot of encouragement, but just then, the buzzer goes off, and he's brought back again to backstage with a "May the odds be ever in your favor, Perseus".

Still, he can hear the crazy screaming of the crowd, thinking they're the person he talked about, even though he has never even met them in person.

Just before he forces himself to sit still, he spares one glance and catches the eyes of Annabeth Chase. When she gives him a thoughtful gaze, it's all he can do to keep his ears from burning red.

 _Oh gosh, that's it. You're making me fall so hard, Annabeth Chase, and you don't even know it._

* * *

 **Additional Author's Note: Yay! I think next chapter is what they call Part II in the actual books...Let _The Games_ Begin _(Finally)._**


	8. Let the Games Begin

**Author's Note: Um, yeah. I'm finally here with the new chapter. It's been too long, I know. Waaaaaaay too long.**

 **I am very sorry :(**

 **See, I don't even have an excuse for this. I started working on this chapter as soon as I uploaded my previous one, but for some whole reason...I forgot about it. I mean, I totally thought I updated in January, but it turns out the last time I touched fanfiction was November. Time flies by so fast! So um...Happy late Holidays and New Years, everyone? *nervous giggle***

 **I've taken a really long time to update this, and I might take a bunch of time to upload the future chapters, and I'm really really sorry for that. I hope you guys haven't given up on this story yet... For those of you who are reading this now, thank you so much.**

 **And thanks for anyone who reviewed/favorited/followed my story! I hope you enjoy this!**

* * *

Looking at the faces before him, he can see the lines of worry and stress, the darkness of sleepless nights bagging beneath the eyes, but strangely enough, he knows that if he looks at the mirror right now, his face would be clear of such things, everything washed away with last night's rest.

Percy slept like a _rock._

To tell the truth, he saw a few dreams, but they were harmless and meaningless and rather soothing in nature, and helped to calm his roaring thoughts.

He saw Finnick munching on a sugar cube, looking at him approvingly and tossing him one. _You can be whoever you want, Perce. A winner. A survivor. The son of the sea._

He saw Nico standing at a snowy cliff, staring up at him with awe and adoration in his eyes. _Whoa,_ he'd said, _that's so cool. You're a real hero, like in Mythomagic!_

He saw Zoe with a grudging smile, telling him worthy and running off with the stars.

He saw Poseidon standing in the white waves of a beach, pulling him in a hug and claiming him his proud son; his favorite son.

And finally, he'd found himself under the surface of a bright blue sea, staring into those wise grey eyes. There was a fond smile on her blushing face, one he knew was mirrored with his own.

Then a gentle hand waved the images away, and he fell through to a deep dreamless sleep.

.

The trip on the hovercraft is silent and tense, but nonetheless Percy stuffs as much food as he can in his mouth. Having the tracker device placed in his forearm was somewhat of a wake-up call. He needs to have his head in the game. _Literally_ , as it was.

The buildings of the Capitol glitters, even when seen from above, and Percy takes in the sight with a sigh and perhaps- _perhaps-_ the tiniest of gulps. He's never flown before in anything, having lived his life either on the ground or below the waves. The highest he's ever been is the room he stayed in for the past few days in the city and this hovercraft took his meaning of _high_ into a whole new and unwanted level. He has to swallow yelps every time the ride flutters the tiniest bit, and he can't be more glad when the hovercraft touches down, safe and sound near the Launch Room. Something about flying gives him the image of thunder and storms and gives him shivers just thinking about it. He'd very much rather travel on sea, thank you. He nearly kisses the pilot for bringing him back to the earth.

He's granted some time to shower and brush his teeth, though he doesn't really understand why. They're about to throw him into an arena where...well, maintaining the cleanness of his teeth would be the _last_ of his worries.

When the clothes arrive, he can pretty much _feel_ how tense Silena is, and she has her jaws clenched even as she gently dresses him (though he tells her he can dress himself fine, the stern and maybe a little desperate look she gives him makes him shut up and let her do so). Every touch, every gaze lingers for moments longer than necessary, and when she finally finishes smoothing out his jacket, she takes his hands and gives a mournful smile. Her big brown eyes well up with tears, and she fumbles a bit before taking out his pen from her pocket and clipping it to the inside of his.

"Your token from home. The rules said that it has to be a piece of accessory or something attached to your attire, so I had to change it a little bit so it clips to the inside of your jacket. I'm sorry I couldn't ask you about it earlier. And I…"

Here she looks down, biting her lips, clenching and unclenching her fists.

"I…I believe in you, Percy. You've shown me over and over that you're stronger and smarter and more powerful than anyone ever expects you to be. And you-"

She scrunches her eyebrows before hugging him tightly, pecking his cheek before letting go.

"You can do it, you know. I'll be waiting right here."

Percy doesn't really know how to respond. He's thankful and all, and gets the feeling that she's talking about things bigger than-say, his score in training, but for now, all he knows is that he's scared for even though everyone calls him slow, he is not thick enough that Silena's fear doesn't penetrate through him, finally speeding his heart and leaving his thoughts tangled. He licks his lips, trying not to show his emotions to his stylist (who's big eyes soften in understanding, unfortunately) and gives a tight smile before moving towards the tube that has lowered silently on to the floor.

"Thanks Silena. For everything."

"It's okay," his stylist whispers, "you always come back, despite all odds. You always defy the Fates. You'll be fine, I know it."

Percy gets the feeling that she's assuring herself more than anyone else.

.

The glass around the platform disappear just as the long, dark tube comes to an end, and he's greeted by cool, yet somewhat damp winds that make slapping sounds as they hit his jacket.

There's open sky above their heads, but it ends just outside the tributes' circle, leaving them blind to everything 20 feet away. The smell of pine wafts around him, but because he can't see any trees, it leaves him to believe that something is above the hole, too.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-third Hunger Games begin!"

And so the countdown begins.

The Cornucopia stands several feet away from him, glinting silver under the sun, and weapons and supplies are scattered carelessly around the mouth of it. Seven platforms to the right of him stands Zoe who gives him a glance before subtly nodding her head to the darkness that continues beyond the tail of the Cornucopia. Percy blinks, trying to tell her he agrees through that movement, and though he's not sure she understands, she faces the center and doesn't look back.

It's the bronze sword standing impaled on the ground near the side of the Cornucopia that catches his eyes. Then comes the hard question; _should he risk it?_ Percy is no fool. He knows he's not a fast runner, and he knows that getting that sword means entering the core of the Bloodbath. And though he beat Luke once, he has no doubt in his mind that Luke would not fail again. Besides, he'll have his goons with him this time, and Percy can pretty much feel the yearning for vengeance bouncing off the Career's skin.

 _Still_...That sword may be his only chance of survival. There's a navy blue backpack rolling right next to it too, so if he just grabs those two and run, maybe, _maybe,_ he'll have a chance.

Before he can think things through, though, his eyes flicker over to the head of the Cornucopia where the countdown is being illuminated.

 _Three._

Percy's eyes widened an inch. _Three?!_ How had he missed the past fifty-seven seconds?! He swears under his breath, shifts his feet, and gets in position to run.

 _Two._

His heart might as well be beating in his throat. He clenches his fists, unclenches them, then tries to take a deep breath.

 _One._

 _Okay. I can do this. I can-_

The gong rings out.

.

Percy flies off the platform the moment the sound reverberates through the underground tunnels, moving with the concentration of a fisherman on the hunt. Still, it does little to cover for his speed because though he's not exactly slow, all of the Careers have already picked their weapons by the time he reaches the sword.

He hardly has any time to breathe before he hears a subtle change in the wind and manages to roll away moments before the dagger slashes through where his head used to be. His heart skips a beat, thudding too loud inside his chest.

"Fast for a boy who spent his days napping on the shore."

Percy stands up without a moment's loss and pulls the sword in one swift motion. The backpack he had wanted to get is now ripped in half towards the middle, its contents spilling out unceremoniously. _That could've...well, that should've been me._ The sick thought twists his stomach into knots, but he bites his lip, letting the pain ground his thoughts.

"Annabeth."

He breathes out, agitation winning against the initial fear. _Why do every Career seem to have something against me?_

"You remember my name, hmm? What have I got here, a secret admirer?"

"Consider me a fan," he shoots back, edging towards the tail of the Cornucopia. Annabeth is taking her time with her kill, but the other Careers won't be so nice when they find him chatting with their best female fighter. "And for your information, I slept on boats, not on sand. It's where I got my gorgeous tan."

He parries another slash of her dagger, the clang of metal against metal ringing in his ears. Adrenaline courses through his veins and he backs away from their connected weapons, slowly lowering to retrieve a red backpack. Not exactly the best camouflage equipment, but it would have to do for now. Annabeth watches, a smirk on her face as she twirls her dagger with the laziness of a predator against a weak prey. Unfortunately for her, _this_ prey is not ready to be her Bloodbath trophy. A particularly long scream pierces from where the main action is taking place, before turning gurgled and eventually silent. Percy senses the attack before he sees it and somehow manages to twist away just as the spear comes into view. Not risking to linger a moment longer, he makes a mad dash to where he hopes Zoe is waiting, knowing Annabeth won't chase him now, not when she has another, _more entertaining_ quarrel to take care of. Percy isn't weak, but he isn't desperate to kill, either. Surely Annabeth can enjoy beating up her fellow Career for now; after all, with him, she's got loads of time. He's just a little mouse running away from her big claws, and one day she'll have him-she's sure of it, he knows. Sparing no look behind his back, he plunges into the darkness, away from prominent danger.

.

"For a moment, I thought you were going to be a no show."

With a sharp intake of breath, Percy swings his sword around in a slow arc as a warning sign, but let his shoulders drop ever so slightly when his bronze sword illuminates the young girl's face.

"Zoe,"

He starts towards her, feeling relieved. He must've ran for hours, now, and the more time passed, the more anxious he had become. More than once he'd had the imagine of her being hurt, questions of _what if that scream was hers?_ rushing through his mind. A spark of irritation rises in his chest but deflates upon seeing his relief reflected on her.

"You didn't tell me you were going to be this far away."

The girl's cheeks puffs a little, looking like a child being scolded unfairly. Of course, she _is_ a child, he reminds himself, but figures that well yeah, so is he. He frowns a bit.

"I didn't think you'd take so much time. I was scared, you know, for you. I stayed at the edge for a while, hoping you'd come, but I couldn't see you over the Cornucopia. I thought that maybe you weren't as strong as you seemed and you were killed. I would've stayed longer, but a Career spotted me and I had no choice but to run."

Percy's frown turns a little deeper, feeling a little like _he_ is the one being reprimanded. But just as he opens his mouth to respond, Zoe continues the one-sided conversation.

"I had time to look around after the Career lost me, but there's literally _nothing_ here. Just tunnels that seem to run forever. A little past here, the dirt tunnels turn into marble walls, but I haven't figured out what that's for, either. And it's pitch black, as you might've noticed,"

Here she points the flashlight into her backpack, taking out a canteen of water and handing it to him for a gulp.

"Thanks," he says, noticing upon drinking the cool water just how thirsty he had been.

"You looked like you needed it. Anyways, I have a bad feeling about this place. It's too empty, and too silent. Weird for an arena, don't you think?"

Percy nods slowly, letting her words sink in. Zoe is... _wise,_ for a lack of better words. She doesn't act like a kid, and she's more mature than any twelve year old he's ever met. It's good in this case, he figures.

"At the Cornucopia, I saw open sky. And smelled pine. I think there's more up there."

"Maybe," she says, looking thoughtful as she picks up her bag and starts to walk again, "I haven't seen any way up though. But if what you say about the pine is true, there should be something above all this. The Gamemakers wouldn't make it smell like the woods for nothing."

Then, finally, there's a pause in her speech, making silence bounce off the walls. Quiet breathing takes place of conversation, and though he didn't notice while running before, there's something in the wind that makes his skin crawl, something that makes every hair stand on its end.

.

It's well into the walk when they find a little space to rest in where the wall caved to make a room. It's not much, certainly not protected enough, but it's the best they've found so far. Percy briefly wonders why the Gamemakers have made such a boring arena, but common sense stops him from voicing his opinions. It would, after all, be horrible if the Gamemakers hear this and try to entertain him with, say, deadly weapons or lava filled tunnels or avalanches of rocks or…or generally scary things that would no doubt kill him.

Just as he sets down his bag and sits, letting his legs finally rest, the cannons begin to fire, signalling the death count.

 _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six._

 _Six? There's_ _ **got**_ _to be some mistake! Every year, at least ten tributes are killed in the Bloodbath. If only six are dead…_

Cool dread pools at the bottom of his stomach.

Eighteen.

That's how many tributes are left. That's how many tributes are out there, lurking… No doubt Luke and Annabeth are in that eighteen tributes, waiting for the perfect moment to end him.

For the umpteenth time this week, fear clouds his mind, gripping his heart in its cold clutches. Perhaps too slow-he should've felt this fear in the countdown, should've felt it as he fought Annabeth. Or when he was running in the dark alone, or when he couldn't find Zoe for hours.

Glancing sideways and telling Zoe to rest, Percy drops his head in his hands.

 _Well,_ he thinks, desperate to calm down. _I haven't killed anyone-haven't even seen anyone dead. That's_ _ **rare**_ _for someone who was in the Bloodbath. I'm not even wounded, and neither is Zoe._

 _That's a good start, isn't it?_

Zoe breathes in and out, slowly and steadily in her sleep. Percy stares off in the darkness, alert, yet uselessly so. There seems to be nothing out here besides them. He mindlessly grabs his backpack, rummages it, looking through the supplies and deeming them satisfactory; a canteen of water, some dried fruits and biscuits, a small hunting knife in a sheath, a bottle of iodine, and a sleeping bag. The air is cool, but for some whole reason, Percy doesn't feel comfortable enough to take out the sleeping bag and relax. His instincts are practically ringing, going off like sirens in an emergency and setting his adrenaline on a non-stop run. At this rate, he'll burn out on energy soon, but no matter how many times he checks to reassure himself that nothing is out there, his heartbeat does nothing but slowly escalate.

He hates this wait.

It seems to be hours later when he hears the anthem blare through the tunnels, informing him that night must have fallen. He's about to wake Zoe when he sees that her obsidian eyes are wide open, and she offers a small smile at his outstretched hand reaching for her shoulder. He wasn't sure how they'd project the death recap-usually they'd project it on to the fake sky, but it seems like every group is granted their own little hologram which, you've gotta admit, is pretty ridiculous. They might as well have given them a huge glowing sign that said _Scared tributes are hiding here! Come and grab 'em-first come, first serve!_ To his relief, though, he can't see another light, meaning that no one is near. So where the heck is he getting these bad feeling from? He stills has no idea.

The first to appear is the girl from District 3. The screen shows the face of a girl a little older than him, red haired, thin faced, a smart spark about her eyes. Percy never really encountered her; he hardly remembers her name. It was something flowy, a little hard to pronounce… He feels guilty for forgetting her name. Now, she'll be forgotten to all but her family, nothing but another short death in the hundreds of past ones from the Hunger Games. He bows his head in respect for a little, but the screen soon changes to the next victim, and he nevers sees her face again.

Both tributes from District 5 are dead. Everyone from 6 and 7 are alive, but the next one twists his insides with mixed feelings.

Atlas... _Nightshade_ from District 8.

How he had not noticed the boy before is beyond his imagination. The only relatives that he remembers are Jade and Pompeii from District 7. He swears that this Atlas was not the boy he saw Reaped for District 8, but knows that that's impossible.

God, everything seems so messed up in this Games. First his weird familiarity with Annabeth, his fight with the weird bull man, and now this...this Atlas. He had wanted Zoe for an ally since the very beginning. Surely he would have noticed if the guy from her District had the same name!

The other fallen tributes are the male tribute from District 9 and the female tribute from District 12. Nothing surprising there, and he can hardly pay attention to it anyways. The Capitol seal appears again, then dissolves into the dark walls of the tunnel.

Feeling weirdly frightened and guilty, he turns his head to Zoe, concerned.

"Are you...alright? Was...I mean, _is_ he your brother?"

Zoe watches him with eerily calm eyes, shaking her head ever so slightly.

"My older cousin, or something like that. I try not to have any relationships with him. It's alright."

Percy blinks, wrenching his brain for some words to answer with. _It's alright?_ Her cousin just died and it's _alright?_ He searches her eyes, finding nothing. Not one tear. Not one speck of remorse.

"I've wanted to do it for years you know, even if…even if..."

" _Zoe_?"

The girl shakes her head again coming out of her creepy trance, and then gives a small laugh.

"Sorry. You might think me heartless to not grieve, but I really didn't know him much. I rarely spoke with that _male_ at all, so you've got nothing to worry about, Percy."

Here, her eyes turn softer and she sits up straighter, stretching out her muscles.

"Why don't you rest for a while? I'll wake you up if anything happens."

"Um...thanks. Yeah, I'll do that."

Percy rests his back against the rough wall, closing his eyes and trying to sleep.

 _Would he be so..._ _ **unshaken**_ _if his distant relative is killed in the Hunger Games?_ Even if it was Triton, he feels like he'd feel _some_ thing-maybe a twitch or so at the back of his mind. He squeezes his eyes shut more, feeling uncomfortable-even more than before.

 _Zoe._

 _Atlas._

 _That...what had she said?_ _ **That male.**_

 _Not one tear. Not one speck of remorse…_

Why does this seem so familiar?


	9. Branching Paths

**Author's Note: ...yeah. I haven't touched Fanfiction in such a long time that writing Author's Note feels...weird.**

 **Hehe...so...yeah. This is chapter 9... Okay. So, considering this story hasn't been uploaded in what, 10 months? this chapter isn't exactly as...exciting as it should be. _But_ , you'll see if you read this chapter, I promise (hope) that the chapters from now on will not be so dull and will actually have action instead of Percy-thoughts & musings.**

 **And yeah. It might be obvious, but I haven't given up on this story. I thought about it for a while, and now I have a few more plots in mind. Yay. I'm still hoping to complete this story, so even if I don't update in a while (and I mean a while as in a really long while), I'll still be continuing this (Unless I say otherwise, which I hopefully will not).** **I _really_ hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm _realy, really_ thankful to anyone that is reading this. Thank you so, so much. And thank you to anyone that favorited or followed or reviewed this or any other of my stories. :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

 _Two exits, blocked by wooden doors with iron locks. A silver key, two faces, a room covered in mosaics. A sneer. A smile._

 _One choice, one chance._

 _Deep brown eyes, filled with rage, hatred, and grief._

 _A beautiful girl with a beautiful voice and tears on a silver flower._

 _An erupting volcano, the clash of swords, traps, skeletons, another crossroad…_

 _A low, vibrating groan, shifting grounds, the smell of death, voices on the other side-_

.

" _Perseus Jackson! If you don't wake up right now, so help me, I will leave your sorry-"_

"We need to go."

Zoe's eyes narrows into an impressive glare, and Percy smiles sheepishly, shouldering his backpack and getting ready in what must be record time.

" _But_ I'm guessing you already know that."

"Yes, you foolish boy. I've been trying to tell you that! I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, I don't want to wait to find out. Let's go."

 _Huh._ The groaning, Percy notes, isn't just from his dream. There's a continuing deep sound that sinks into his bones and makes him want to crawl out of his skin. Judging from the distasteful twist of her lips, Percy is sure that Zoe agrees. Grabbing her bow and quiver quickly, she makes a vague gesture and plunges into the darkness. Percy is about to follow, but something-his gut instinct?-tells him to look back, and what he sees has him gaping in disbelief. The little caved-in room they had spent the past few hours in is gone, replaced by a smooth, solid wall, and though he's sure they had gone through a straight path the day before, what little light reflects from his bronze sword shows that the wall ends about four feet back, cut off in a sharp corner he knows they did not turn. More than a little creeped out, Percy blindly turns around and runs for his ally.

.

"I'm _serious_ , Zoe! There was a corner, and a wall-a solid wall! It wasn't-that wasn't-it was different from the place we spent the past few hours!"

"Shush, Percy! Do you _want_ to be killed?"

"The other tributes are the _least_ of our problems. Are you even listening to me right now? It's like the Gamemakers don't want the tributes to find each other! Why would they make a maze this big-one that shifts and changes, no less!"

"For the _last time,_ Perseus! You were still half-asleep, and it was dark! You probably saw something else."

"Something else? What would I see-"

Zoe suddenly nudges his arm, shutting him up, and stands still. The groaning, though it had been going on endlessly since he woke up, sounds louder and closer, as it had been right before they left their spot. Percy grabs Zoe's backpack and opens it carelessly, digging for the flashlight they had left unused for safety reasons.

"What the-what is _wrong_ with you? You have a mouth to-"

" _Look_."

Percy points the light to the path before them, which is one long tunnel with grey, rock-like walls, at least until it slowly shifts, blurring like a screen with bad reception, to split into a forked, two way path. Percy turns to the open-jawed girl besides him with a satisfied, brow raised grin, dodging an elbow aimed to his side.

"Okay, wow. You weren't joking."

She grabs the flashlight from his hand, rolling her eyes at his gleeful expression and settling her face into her normal, serious look.

The tunnel to the left is made of dirt and roots, crumbling every few seconds as the roots wiggled and moved, and the tunnel to the right is covered in white, shiny marble that reflects the light like a maze of mirrors.

Neither choice looked very welcoming.

"I know you're reveling in self-glory right now, but I really don't think this is a good thing. I liked the first path so much more."

She flashes the light back and forth for a bit, contemplating the choices.

"You... said that you smelled the woods at the Cornucopia. Maybe if we go to the left, it'd lead there."

Percy considers this with a frown.

"That tunnel looks like it wants to eat us alive. And who's to say those roots won't stab us or trip us or slap us or strangle us?"

"Do you suggest we go right then, oh wise one?"

Percy gives an apathetic shrug.

"It looks...more hygienic."

"Considering we're in a game of murder and all, I'd figured personal hygiene was low on your priorities."

"Well excuse me for being a cup half full kind of guy. I was just trying to find something good about either one of the paths. Besides, I just feel like...the right way is the right way."

"Fine," Zoe says after an exasperated pause, "but if we die in this hallway, I am so blaming it on you. My hygiene wouldn't matter so much if I am dead, hmm?"

.

Percy decides he might have been better being strangled by tree roots when he finds a knife hitting the wall where his head was leaning against just moments before. Though, of course, he can't quite decide if he regrets the decision because of the knife aimed at his face, or because of Zoe's glare.

Goodness knows that girl is _scary_.

"Drop your weapons."

The hall is dark, but there's enough light coming from their weapons to see the gleaming blade quivering at his nose. With a shallow gulp, he notes that though he imagined most people to point at throats rather than faces when cornering a person, it's quite frightening enough to see it nicking his nose.

He likes his face just as it is, thank you very much.

"Uhh…"

"I said drop your weapons!"

Percy keeps his eyes on the knife as he slowly lowers himself into a crouch, pressing his sword against the floor but keeping his hands wrapped around the hilt. Threatened or not, he'd be an idiot to let go of his weapon so easily. The girl-or he thinks it's a girl, considering the high voice and all-moves the knife along with his movements, now resting the tip against his forehead.

"Drop. It."

"You know," Zoe says, casually keeping her arrow notched on her bow, "I don't think it really matters whether he drops his weapon or not."

Funny. Between the pounding of his heart and the knife at his face, he'd almost forgotten about Zoe.

"It matters more what _you_ do with _your_ weapon."

12 years old, and yet she has the confidence of an adult. Percy has to bite back a smile of relief.

"Think of it like this. Say you drill that knife into his head right now. He would die, yes, but the moment you do so, _my_ arrow would be deep inside your head as well. On the other hand, if you decide _not_ to kill him, you're still losing because you're against us two to one. See my point? Either way, the outcome is the same, with me on the winning side. The difference is whether you two die."

Percy blinks owlishly, and he's also 80% sure that the girl is doing the same.

"But...but your ally-"

"Is just a boy I met a week ago. Honestly. I wouldn't overestimate my personality so much. One of us would die soon anyways. Why not get past the hard part now?"

Percy scowls a little, causing Zoe to grin smugly. He wants to be sure-really, he does-that she is simply bluffing, but the image of her shrugging at her cousin's death keeps flashing through his mind, and he hates himself for not being able to trust his ally completely.

 _She's just a really good actor,_ he tries to reassure himself, _Maybe a little too good of an actor._

Slowly, hesitantly, the knife lowers from his face. Percy stands in an instant, whipping his sword up and pointing it at the girl. The bronze sword, now placed under her chin, illuminates her face in a faint glow.

" _Bianca Angell?"_

Zoe lowers her bow a moment later, and when she speaks again, her voice is soft.

"Bianca?"

" _Zoe?_ "

"And Percy! Don't forget Percy! You know, the guy you tried to rob a nose from?"

"You…" Bianca gapes at Zoe, then Percy, before shaking her head incredulously. "You allied yourself with _him?_ I thought you hated guys! And he's...he's a Career! From District 4, no less!"

" _He_ is right here you know. And _he_ has a name!"

Zoe tries and fails to hide a grin, walking over next to Percy and pushing Percy's sword away from Bianca's face.

"He's not a Career. And I refused his offer for alliance at first but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He _begged_."

"I did _not_ beg!" Percy replies, sounding offended, but at Zoe's raised eyebrows, he deflates a little.

"I _asked_. And you said no, then maybe, then yes, so my persistence was a good thing! And I'm _glad_ you're my ally, 'cause otherwise I'm pretty sure Bianca would've cut my face in half."

At his words, Zoe's eyes soften a little, and Bianca allows herself to chuckle quietly at their banter.

"I'm glad you're my ally too, Percy."

.

In the end, neither Percy nor Zoe had the heart to do what they _should_ do. They couldn't bear to leave Bianca there alone knowing she barely had supplies, and murdering her was completely out of the question.

Bianca had been so... _prepared_ , and that was what drove Percy into pretty much begging another young girl to join their little alliance.

After their banter, silence had overtaken the trio, and when it became clear that no one knew what to do from there, Bianca had stepped back like a frightened bunny, clutching the knife and holding it out.

It had taken Percy a couple of moments to realize that there were nothing around them to be frightened of, and he'd calmed down for about two seconds before being upset for a completely different reason.

Bianca was frightened of _them._ She was prepared to fight _them,_ them who had, however short it had been, shared a nice banter with her like _friends_.

She had assumed that they would try to fight her now that their conversation and reunion was over, and that very thought enrages Percy and makes him clench his fist.

 _Maybe,_ he thinks snidely, _maybe we should've killed her quickly and wiped our blades clean of her blood on her own clothes and kicked her corpse away like that. After all, that's what the audience wants to see, right?_

But taking a glance at the girl walking to his right, he's reminded of how innocent she looks with those dark brown eyes that looks so much like Nico's, it disgusts him that he allowed himself to think that this girl is worth so little she could be sacrificed just to bring a point across.

 _So prepared...so frightened…_

Being with Zoe and so far encountering very few dangers-at least considering they were in the Games-it's easy to forget what this is _about._ The way Bianca had reacted reminds him of how foolish he had been.

This isn't a game-not to the people inside. And yet he'd so far done nothing but laugh and grin and skip along, carelessly wandering around like an idiot because he'd been fortunate enough not to see even a drop of blood being shed.

He is _stupid_ , and he knows it.

Yeah, he'd seen six faces flash across the ceiling yesterday but it holds no _reality._ All in all, this whole situation is still _absurd_ to him.

The Hunger Games?

He'd never ever considered himself to be the one going inside. His home is District 4, for goodness sake! No matter how nervous and frightened he had been, a part of his mind had always assumed that there'd be no way he'd have to go-he was just one name in a bowl of thousands, and there were dozens of Careers waiting in line to volunteer.

And even though he is now a tribute, the fact had so far been...vague in his mind, as if he'd known the fact but considered it from afar, as if this were all a dream. Sparring with Annabeth, searching for Zoe, twisting through the changing paths; it had been frightening, yeah, but somewhat _surreal_. It still is, he muses, walking through the maze with the two of them as if they were friends and not...necessary alliances made in a time of need.

He needs to...needs to take this more seriously, or else he'll be dead within the next few days.

And he _can't_ die, not so soon, not _at all_ , not if he's to keep his promises.

And goodness knows he has to keep them. If he breaks them, he'd be breaking the hearts of everyone he loves right along with them.

He can't do that. He just can't.

There's a faint, high pitched sound in the distance that sounds a little too close to a scream, and as he exchanges nervous glances with the girls, two cannons go off consecutively as if to verify the fact that they'd heard right.

 _This is it_ , he thinks grimly. _Two cannons, two kids dead._

 _If I don't start playing this Game right...the next cannon, it'll be mine._

* * *

 **Additional Autho's Note: So yeah, as you can see, this chapter doesn't have much of Percy's Greek-myth-life-flashback-thingies, and it doesn't have much Hunger Games action either, and I'm really sorry about that... Hopefully the next chapter will have both...a lot of both... *evil laugh***

 **Oh yeah, and just in case my description in the story was kinda vague, the arena (so far) is like the Labyrinth in the Percy Jackson series, where everything is just random paths and rooms, and it shifts once in a while and changes. And (so far) the only open space is at the Cornucopia where there is a hole instead of a ceiling and Percy and Zoe assumes that there's a forest above the maze-ish thing they're in. The arena will be more (or less, depending on how you look at it) understandable later on (hopefully in the next chater). It's still not described that much in the story because the characters don't know what it's like, either. So, sorry about that.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	10. Crumbling Walls

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry! Time flies by so fast! I can't believe it's already** _ **May**_ **...of 2017! Gosh. I haven't updated this story in such a long time that I had to reread the whole thing just to understand what I've written so far.**

 **Thanks to anyone who's still reading this story, and thank you to anyone who's reviewed or favorited or followed it! I can't believe this story has more than 50 follows! Thank you so much! Oh yeah, and thank you so much for all the arena ideas! I loved all of them, but I'm probably not going to be able to use a few of them in this story… And I was wondering if maybe I could use some of those ideas in another story or something? I just love them so much. Please tell me if it is okay to use your ideas!**

 **And to clear some things up, if the character has the same name as a character from the book, the character is that character (this is probably the most confusing sentence I have ever written). Meaning, Bianca is supposed to be Bianca from the book (though obviously some things are changed since she's not Nico's brother...sort of) and Zoe is Zoe and Atlas is Atlas and so on and so forth. Sorry if it was confusing…**

 **And I'm sorry for the long Author's Note! Anyways, I don't own anything, so...on with the story! (Finally)**

* * *

"We need food."

Percy looks up from doodling on the dirt, startled as he comes face to face with Zoe's scowl.

"Uh...I get that that's a problem, but why do you look so angry?"

"Stop drawing on the ground, Percy. It's a really convenient sign telling anyone that passes by that we were here!"

"I was going to erase it after I finish my masterpiece!"

Percy cowers behind a sleeping Bianca as Zoe narrows her eyes further, and grudgingly erases his drawing of Bob the Friendly Giant (funny how precisely he can imagine Bob in real life: wild Einstein silver hair, long beard, and silver eyes, looming in his 20 foot figure with a broom in his hand).

"So...what about the food?"

Zoe rolls her eyes as she drags her backpack over and plops down besides Percy.

"There's not a lot of food in my backpack, and the only thing Bianca has is the knife some Career threw at her head."

She shows him the pack of crackers, frowning.

"This won't last us two days."

Percy reaches over to his own backpack and gestures to the dried fruits and biscuits helplessly.

"I only have these, and I got this backpack pretty close to the Cornucopia. Either I lucked out, or no one has food. I can't decide which one is worse."

"They're _both_ really bad. It's not like we can hunt for food here."

Tilting his head slightly towards the ceiling where he hopes the cameras are hiding, he gives Zoe the most serious face he can conjure at the moment.

"Well that's a shame. It would be a rather boring show if we all died from starvation."

"I don't know about you, but I _like_ boring," Zoe says, her face incredulous, "If you want entertainment, please ask for it when you're miles and miles away from _us_. I did not ally myself with you in hopes of getting a flashy death."

Her tone sounds as sarcastic as it has ever been, but Percy can still see the fear in the rigid way she sits, and suppresses a sigh as guilt sets in again. It's just too easy to forget that Zoe is only twelve. Most of the time, Percy's convinced that Zoe has the mind of a grandma (what twelve year old says stuff like "wiser" and "admittedly"? He's only ever heard his neighbor use words like that, and his neighbor is _at least_ ninety years old). Technically, Percy isn't much older than Zoe, but he figures the two years between twelve and fourteen are kind of a big deal. He probably would've fainted from fear during the countdown if he were still twelve.

"I wasn't _asking_ for entertainment. I'm the kind of guy who brings entertainment himself. I was merely stating my opinion."

Percy takes a biscuit out of the plastic bag and bites into it before making the most outrageous face he could, hoping to get some reaction from Zoe. She simply raises her eyebrows at his antics, but he figures that's a lot by Zoe standards, so he sits back, satisfied.

"You know, I'm starting to think this is a new form of torture. They feed us luxuriously for a whole week, and all of a sudden all we get are some tasteless, stale biscuits and some crackers."

"Don't forget the dried fruits," Bianca calls out sleepily from where she is snuggled comfortably in the sleeping bag, "they tasted...so much…better with those fancy cheese."

Zoe and Percy share a smile as Bianca stifles a yawn and clambers out of the warm blanket. In the past few hours only, Percy has found that Bianca has that soft, older-sisterly kind of feel to her that makes it really easy to like her.

Oh yeah. Percy has also found that he starts liking people _way_ too easily. He's come to consider Zoe a friend, and Bianca is slowly but surely making her way into his heart. And he sort of maybe likes Annabeth (though perhaps, you know, not as a _friend_ …), and Helen and he left on good terms, so that's already _four people_ he has a problem with the whole "dying" thing. He knows that he's just making things harder for himself, but it's not like he can _help it_. If circumstances had been different, he would've wanted to be friends with _everyone_.

Which, he figures, is the problem with him.

"You guys should be more careful. You get so loud when you're arguing, and you argue _all the time_."

Bianca neatly folds the sleeping bag and stuffs it into Percy's backpack before taking a biscuit herself and chewing it thoughtfully.

"You're right. This _is_ stale. I wish I could give you guys the biscuits they make back home. It tastes so good, with the freshly made milk and butter and stuff." She absentmindedly plays with her necklace and continues with a dry laugh, "Not even two days in, and I already miss home."

Percy opens his mouth to say something to comfort her, but his words die on his tongue when Bianca moves her hand away from her necklace. He had noticed that she wears one, but the pendent on the necklace had always been hidden under her jacket. Now...now, he can see the pendent, gold and shiny on the silver chain, a figure of a man dressed in silky clothes with a slight frown tilting his lips… He doesn't realize he's reaching for the pendent until Bianca backs up, looking uncomfortable, and he blushes bright red in embarrassment.

"Sorry! I didn't...I wasn't…"

Bianca smiles awkwardly but neither she nor Zoe say anything about it, which Percy is immensely thankful for. Honestly, he has no idea what came over him. All he knows is that he's seen that tiny statue somewhere before, and the sight of it fills him with guilt and dread.

"One shall be lost in the land without rain..."

"Huh?"

Zoe and Bianca stare at him again, and Percy distractedly shakes his head. Something's going to happen soon, he can feel it. The sick weight of resignation settles in his stomach, as if his _body_ knows what will happen, even though his brain is left in the dark.

Images of gold flash behind his eyes, but it dances from his grasp before he can fully understand them.

"Are you okay, Percy?"

He pushes these strange thoughts out of his mind, but he finds he can't look at Bianca in the eyes.

"Yeah. Sorry. I just...don't really get a good feeling about this place."

It's true, actually. They've turned several corners since he noticed Bianca's necklace, and the darkness of the tunnels seems to have become thicker and more intense. Sand piles on the marble floor and crunches beneath their sneakers. For a second, he thinks he hears something, but when he stops to listen, the sound is gone.

"Honestly, I feel like we're stepping right into a-"

The ground shakes violently, cutting Percy off, and he topples over, crashing into the floor head first. For a second, his vision is blurry and when he shakes his head to clear his sight, sharp pain laces up his skull. Before he can check though, the sand on the floor blows into his face, distracting him and blocking his view further. He coughs, certain he's got enough sand in his mouth to create a desert-and he's swollen much more sand than he needs to in a lifetime. He struggles to sit up, and once he does, he sees that cracks have begun to travel up the walls, chipping away at the surface and snaking towards the ceiling.

"We need to get out of here!"

Easier said than done. The ground shakes so much that he can't even stand up; running is completely out of the question. And something tells him this is something that's affecting the whole arena, and if that's true, there is nowhere _to_ run.

The cracking sound is the only warning he gets before a huge chunk of the ceiling falls to the floor, and he only barely manages to roll out of the way. He stares at the thick debris in front of him as he fights a shudder that runs through his spine.

If his reflexes had made him react a millisecond later, he would've been squashed into a Percy pancake.

 _Oh thank you thank you thank you thank you_ _ **thank you**_ _,_ Percy thinks, _I'm so freaking glad I have ADHD._

He pauses, confused, since as far as he is concerned, ADHD is not a word he knows or has ever even heard, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it for long, since more of the ceiling starts to crumble. For a split second, he hears a scream, and he realizes he can't see either of the girls from where he is crouched. He opens his mouth to check up on them when the quake slowly subsides, and he stands up with some difficulty as it comes to a complete stop.

The world sways for a moment and he grabs onto the wall for support as he blinks the dark spots out of his eyes. In the chaos, he'd forgotten about his head, and once his vision clears, it escapes his attention again because he sees that the tunnel is pretty much _destroyed._ There's more open sky than ceiling above, and he can hardly see the floor anymore because of all the debris. A few yards away, Zoe and Bianca are struggling to stand, and relief is clear on their faces that _that_ is over.

"Are you okay?" He asks, running his eyes over both of them. They're covered in scratches and he's pretty sure there'll be some bruises later on, but they look relatively uninjured. He's pretty sure it's a miracle that they're all okay, and thanks his lucky stars that they are.

"We're fine," Zoe replies, but she narrows her eyes when she sees the way he's leaning on the wall, and even though he quickly lets go of it and straightens, she steps towards him, suspicious.

"What about you?"

Percy laughs a bit, running his hand through his hair, but he stops and hides his hand behind his back when he feels something wet.

" _Perseus…_ "

He grimaces when Zoe says his full name, and grimaces even more when Bianca grabs the hand he hid.

"Percy! You're bleeding!"

"Oh, uh, really? That's funny. It's not so bad though. I'm totally fine."

He shrugs, smiling as Bianca fusses over his injury, scolding him for being so clumsy. It's kind of a nice feeling, as if she's the older sister he never had, but the feeling doesn't last for long.

" _Shh!_ "

Zoe's warning effectively shuts them up, and in the silence, they can hear voices approaching their tunnel.

Percy pales slightly when he recognizes Luke and Annabeth's voices.

"We need to get out of here, _now_."

He's not sure if the other two can tell who the voices belong to, but they offer no resistance to his suggestion.

"Shoot. Percy, the tunnel's blocked!"

He turns around towards Bianca, who tries to pull the debris free from the passage before giving him a panicked shake of her head. Zoe nocks an arrow and aims towards the other side of the tunnel, ready to shoot the moment the Careers appear, but she glances back to Percy, unease written clearly on her face. Percy grabs the hilt of his sword to join Zoe, but pauses before he draws the weapon, an idea forming in his head.

"We...we can still go up."

Ignoring the incredulous looks on his allies' faces, he scrambles up the biggest pile of debris before hooking his fingers on a crack on the wall, pulling himself up little by little. The ceiling must've been pretty high, since it takes a while before he reaches the top, and by the time he does, his head is thumping in dull pain, but he looks down and sees that the Careers haven't reached the tunnel yet. He reaches down, offering an arm to Zoe who had begun climbing right after Percy did, and he just manages to grab her hand before her foot slips on the wall. He winces at the pull of her weight on his arm before holding her with both hands and trying to pull her up. Zoe is really light-really, she is-but he's not exactly the strongest guy around, and he struggles a bit and adjusts his position as he drags her up and onto the flat surface.

"Thank you," Zoe breathes, and Percy nods in reply before turning to help Bianca.

But when Percy looks down again, he sees that Bianca is climbing down instead of up and can't help but give a harsh whisper despite wanting to remain unnoticed.

"What are you _doing_?"

"My necklace!" Bianca cries as she jumps the last few feet before rushing off to where she had been when the earthquake had started. The pendant glints gold in the sand in front of the debris that blocks the rest of the tunnel, but there's piles of rocks and ceiling blocking her way, and she struggles to get through the mess.

"Leave it, Bianca! There's not enough time!"

"I have to get it! It's my brother's!"

 _You have to promise to keep my sister safe._

An image of Nico flits through his mind, his eyes rimmed in red and screaming in anger. Percy doesn't get why he's thinking of his cousin now, but he doesn't really have the _time_ to get it, so he shouts the first thing that comes to his mind.

"Your brother won't be happy if you're _dead!_ "

"I need it!"

Percy scowls, prepared to jump off and slap some sense into Bianca, but Zoe's desperate hand stops him from going any further than the edge. Just as he turns to rip her hand away, a knife buries itself into the wall right where his head would've been if he had been climbing down. He stares at it in shock for a moment before cursing under his breath and ripping the knife from the wall, and the Careers-Sirius and Crystal from District 1, Annabeth, Luke, Helen, and surprisingly Jade and Pompeii from 7, as well-turn the corner into the tunnel.

"Well, well, well. Look what we found here!"

Luke's voice oozes with mockery, and Bianca clutches the pendant tightly, her whole body heaving with frightened gasps.

Percy knows he can't get down there in time, and he's right.

The spear enters Bianca's chest seconds after he throws his knife.

His aim isn't perfect, but Zoe's arrow flies true. It buries itself into the throat of Pompeii while Percy's knife just barely scratches Sirius' shoulder. He hears Jade scream her brother's name as Pompeii claws at the arrow that penetrates his neck, but the rest of the Careers don't seem to care too much, barely sparing them a glance even as the cannon goes off, signaling his death.

But it doesn't matter. Zoe is crying-at least, Percy thinks so, since he can feel her tremble as she shoots at the Careers. Bianca stays standing for a few moments before crumpling down, her face frozen in confusion at the wooden handle sticking out of her chest.

The Careers can't get close to Bianca as long as Zoe continues to shoot, and they don't try too hard to do so, either. They don't have an advantage as long as they are on the ground, and they're in no hurry to kill Percy and Zoe. With an exaggeratedly annoyed sigh, Luke turns around, and the rest follows after him, laughing. Jade tries dragging Pompeii's body with her but screams in anger and runs away from it when Zoe shoots into his body again.

Percy climbs down the moment they're gone, but it's way too late to help her in any way. Bianca curls around the wound, coughing as she struggles to breathe, and while she turns her head towards them when Percy and Zoe reach her, she seems to look right through them.

"Tell my brother…"

"Shh, don't talk. You're going to be okay."

It's an obvious lie, and it seems to pain Zoe to say it. Bianca shakes her head and opens her hand, pushing the pendant to Percy.

"Tell him I said sorry."

Percy hesitates but picks it up with one hand and grasps Bianca's hand with the other.

"But your brother-"

"It's not your fault, Percy. It's not…"

Bianca struggles to meet his eyes, and when she does, her lips curl up in a small smile. Her whole body relaxes before her eyes glaze over, and the cannon goes off a little after that. Zoe furiously rubs at her eyes before deciding it's useless and hugging Bianca, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Percy swallows shallowly, grasping tightly onto the statue that digs into the palm of hand, pleading- _praying_ -that Bianca would just open her eyes and it would all have been a nightmare.

.

It doesn't work.

Bianca di Angelo is gone.

* * *

 **Additional Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed that. That took so much time to write XD**

 **Anyways, just wanted to say that the pendant on Bianca's necklace is the Mythomagic Hades statue that Bianca picks up in** _ **The Titan's Curse**_ **. I was worried that that wasn't clear enough in the story, so I wanted to mention it, just in case it was confusing.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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